


Sanguinary

by bitchytimemachine



Series: Surgere et Cadere [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Action & Romance, Badass Bulma, Fluff and Smut, Mini Bang, POV Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Planet Vegeta, Political Alliances, Political Intrigue, Role Reversal, Romance, Smut, VBO mini Bang, Vegebulocracy Mini Bang 2019, alternative universe, vegebulocracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-16 14:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18693205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchytimemachine/pseuds/bitchytimemachine
Summary: How much does our circumstance shape who we turn out to be? When Prince Vegeta spies a vicious woman in the fighting pits of Vegeta-sei, his decisions regarding her will shape the lives of his people for generations to come. An alliance on the verge of war, a civilization in need of trade, an emperor searching for what he lost, and the fate of this mysterious woman all hang in a precarious balance. They meet, they fight, they fuck and they topple Empires.





	1. The Pits

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of people to thank for their input and help with this piece. First, I would like to say thanks to the mods at VBO for their hard work putting this event together! Next my wonderful artist, K17! She worked so hard and gave me 5 beautiful pieces for this event and I loved working with her so much!  
> 
> 
>   
>    
>  [Check out her Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/k17hb/)   
> 
> 
>   
> Also huge thanks to [Blacksheep115](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSheep115/pseuds/BlackSheep115), [Scarletraven1001](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRaven1001/pseuds/ScarletRaven1001), Guardian.eris, [TashanaAmbrosia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashanaAmbrosia/pseuds/TashanaAmbrosia), and [Rockykelboa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockykelboa/pseuds/rockykelboa) for putting eyes on this and fixing shit that sucked, y'all are pretty awesome!

 

**Summer 53, Day**

He leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on his knuckles. The crowd’s roars indicated an early fight had broken out in the stands. The masses were restless; it had been too long since a pit fight had occurred, and the bloodthirsty hordes were ready for a rumble. Saiyan fighting pits were notorious for the creatively gruesome ways the alien slaves found to murder their opponents. Prince Vegeta did not like giving credence to the aliens’ struggles, much preferring to view true warriors practice their art. Vegeta viewed the aliens’ attempts at battle to be clumsy and amateur, and he was sure this would be a dull affair as well.

The din of the crowd swelled as the battle contestants emerged from the holding areas to the rear of the pit and lined up to greet the royals. The king sat perched upon his throne; he was an imposing figure, and he was flanked by his own war advisor, Nappa. The bald hulking man was entirely too serious and engaging the crowd with his angry stare. Nappa’s form was mirrored with the small, lanky Saiyan who was Vegeta-sei’s royal agriculture advisor, Rhu. The ancient man similarly peered over the crowd, his sunken eyes searching for threats. _As if that old man could handle a fight_ Vegeta thought rolling his eyes towards his father. 

King Vegeta placed his hand in the air, and the crowd quickly stifled their roars. The pit master, a portly Saiyan by the name of Kon, began to excitedly announce each contestant and their home worlds to the crowd. Kon’s gruff tenor echoed through the coliseum as Vegeta counted twenty five contestants to this battle royale. There were only two that seemed to be of any use—the lizard like species known as Szaons, known for their beauty and grace in their prime form but hulking power in their transformed state; and the Umathi, blob-like creatures that sucked in their opponents and digested them alive. Their physiology was that of a ball of goo, lumbering around senselessly, with its victims visibly trapped in their prison-like graves. Of the other twenty three, there was nothing notable. Vegeta noticed an Arlian, a few other bug like species, as well as one Saiyan and a Saiyanoid creature that Vegeta had never seen before. _What a disgusting, tail-less weakling_. 

He leered down on the participants with an air of superiority. The highest power level was in the 900s. _900s! Ugh pathetic,_ he thought to himself. The battle would surely be a farce and waste of time. His father, _The King_ , had dragged him out to yet another silly event just to be seen. Vegeta cared little about his reputation with the lowborn masses. He would rather be training with his right hand man, Raditz, or tilling the grain fields, or helping the wet-nurses with the cubs—really just anywhere else but here, sitting upon the most uncomfortable stone seat. The air in the stadium even felt thick and stuffy, adding to Vegeta’s discomfort. He shifted in the chair, about to stand and leave when he caught his father’s icy gaze shift to catch his retreat. 

This was not worth his time, just like the last council meeting he was in was a waste. The stuffy advisors and kiss-asses all bowed and bent to his father’s will. They whispered falsehoods in one ear of war on the horizon, while they raised a dagger to their sovereign’s back. Vegeta would relish the day he became king, releasing the snakes from their bonds, much as he wanted to be left from this event. He drummed his fingers upon the armrest of the chair, waiting for the battle to begin.

The prince sat through the most boring thirty minutes of oozing blood, snapping necks and crunching bones of his life. The weaklings had lasted much longer than he had believed them capable with their pathetic power levels. Four fighters stood out amongst the crowd. The Sazon disemboweled and devastated his foes, while several bodies were floating with lifeless screams within the belly of the Umath. Besides them, only the Saiyan and the other Saiyanoid creature were left. Each had held their own, the Saiyan making quick work of many of his enemies, favoring ripping each opponent’s throat out with his teeth. However, the Saiyanoid woman was especially interesting, having taken down several large and much more powerful creatures to her by using her wits, as it was apparent she had no brawn. 

Vegeta found his eyes being drawn to her as she studied each of her prey before crafting simple, but ingenious ways to fell them. He watched the tiny being creep around the backside of a rock, attempting to sneak up on the Szaon. She was a lithe thing, wearing a dark brown hide that criss crossed in bands tightly around her torso, arms and legs, as well as connected gloves and boots. She was an odd sight, and more peculiar was her coloring. Her skin was the color of fresh cream, and she sported a shock of cerulean hair pulled on the top of her head. The woman hopped around the pit on toes like a desert bird on too hot sand, before silently clambering upon the rock. In the blink of an eye she had pounced upon the Szaon, gripping his head in a vice. He seemed to be about to break free, but in an instant his body desperately began to shake. It wasn’t until the lizard fell lifeless that Vegeta noticed the wiring connecting what seemed to be a battery pack to the gloves and boots of the woman’s armor. While the body of the fallen warrior continued to seize at her feet, the woman pulled a small dagger from her hip and raked it across his throat. The crowd erupted in ecstasy, its bloodlust being sated at the sight of the creatures blood spurting out of his neck with each of his last heartbeats. 

Behind her crept the Saiyan, teeth bared. He captured the woman from behind, grasping and squeezing at her neck. The Saiyan began to pull at his garments, and Vegeta disgustedly looked away. _How dare he further sully his honor by attempting such a disgraceful act in the pits?!_ Moments crept by, and Vegeta’s thoughts were interrupted when the crowd roared to life. Vegeta glanced towards the arena and noticed the woman, standing triumphantly over her prey. She had the Saiyans tail in hand before she ripped it off his back, a trophy of her conquest.

Her victory was short lived however, as the gelatinous Umath lumbered toward the two. The Saiyanoid ripped her dagger through her would be rapist’s achilles tendons, leaving him prone before retreating herself. Lurching towards the Saiyan, the Umath oozed over him and enveloped the man in its gel. The trapped Saiyan was now forced to spend the rest of his days imprisoned in the ooze, pants at his ankles, face twisted in perpetual agony. 

The woman backed away from the mass, eyes fixed on the final obstacle in between her and survival. Vegeta could sense her calculations, recognizing the scrunch of her face as being the same one he made when facing an unknown enemy. She was in a tight spot, Vegeta had battled this race before, and they were difficult opponents. They had no nervous system to note; the seeping creature brainlessly searched for sustenance. They had few weaknesses. Vegeta had success with them in the past by using extreme cold to paralyze its movements before hacking into its body. Alas, Vegeta was convinced this woman had met her end. The battle would not cease until only one warrior was left standing, and from his vantage point, she had only her wits, some hide armor, and a small dagger at her disposal. 

Although Vegeta was convinced that this would be the end of the woman, he was curious about what she would come up with to attempt a victory. Her will to survive was strong, and it was obvious she was clever. Perhaps she would find a way after all? Vegeta leaned forward. His body tensed. His attention fixated on her, and the world around him blurred into oblivion.

She stooped over and grabbed a few rocks from the ground. Then she scurried towards a fallen warrior, scraping up a spear discarded on the earth. Her eyes narrowed as she scoured the landscape for her tactical advantage. To the far east of the arena, an outcropping of stone jutted out of the ground and created an overhang. She watched the gloopy creature as she gently padded over the ground. It seemed to be lost, not able to find her. 

_Good idea,_ Vegeta thought, realizing her plan. _But will that be enough to save her life?_

Tilting her head to the side, she placed the tip of the spear to the ground and began to scrape it over the red clay. Instantly the alien began to lumber in the direction of the vibrations. It was at this point that Vegeta’s world was turned upside down, a smirk crossed the woman face. It was radiant. It was the look of a woman who knew she had prevailed. Cocksure and bright, the simple smirk shook Vegeta to the core. It was a look he had given others many times before, and it was plastered on this scrappy, agile— _frail_ almost—woman. The sight shot a cold breeze over his body, pimpling his flesh and making his breath catch in his throat. Vegeta shifted even more forwards in his seat in anticipation for the woman’s next move. 

She wove back and forth on the ground, scraping the spear tip behind her, goading the slime creature to her. The woman paused a moment as she passed a fallen foe with an emerald cape attached to the shoulder of his armor. Hesitating only for a moment before taking action— _calculating_ —she cut the fabric from the fallen man and continued on her task. The woman came to her destination and clambered up the outcropping, pressing herself against the rock. 

She began tossing the stones to the ground, little by little coaxing her prey to her. Lumbering towards its next meal, the Umath’s contents jiggled ominously. When the creature broached the area under her perch, the woman agilely dropped the cape over the top of the creature. With a scream, she pointed the tip of the spear towards the top of the goo creature and dived into the center of the cape. 

Vegeta watched as the woman’s graceful form fell into the creatures depths. He sat back in his chair, refusing to believe what he just witnessed. Umathi were known to be impossible to get out of.

The crowd erupted in joy as the last participant in the battle stood, or more appropriately, sloshed about the ground. Vegeta was sure the King was not going to invite this mindless creature to the Royal Grandstand, but he remained seated anyways, something sticking him to his chair and knitting his brows together. 

What was this gnawing ache at Vegeta’s stomach? It was nothing he had experienced before. Sure he had been angry, disappointed with his subordinates in the past, but those were his regular squad members, men and women whom Vegeta had been grooming for years. Never had a nameless, weakling warrior disappointed him before. Vegeta couldn’t place his finger on what it was about her that caught his attention. Her raw energy was nothing; Arlian’s, the cockroaches they were, held greater power than she had. Possibly the supple, soft looking body and odd coloring on the Saiyanoid creature was alluring? Saiyan women were not known for their beauty, instead sporting stocky, muscle bound bodies and shocks of unruly dark hair. The ruthless dispatching of her opponents surely was Saiyan. Mayhaps this is some half-bred abomination taking on the qualities of the warrior in mentality, but not the physical prowess needed to complete the task? What a waste of Saiyan seed. 

A muffled boom, followed by the squicking sound of splashing was heard, and Vegeta looked to the pit. There the woman stood, dripping with the slime of the Umath; the bodies of its previous prey lay in piles around her in various stages of digestion.

“Bring the Victor to the Royal Grandstand!” Vegeta heard his father’s voice boom around him.

****

——————————————————

Kon shoved the tiny woman up the stairs towards Vegeta and his father. A deep scowl etched her face. Her angry gaze pierced through the armor of many high leveled warriors, and Vegeta thought he saw many a full-blooded Saiyans’ knees weaken to the will of this tiny creature ascending the stairs towards him. Time slowed as her eyes lifted to meet his, flicking towards his father and back to Vegeta. Her icy pools bored into Vegeta’s soul and chilled the natural heat that radiated from him. Steeling himself, Vegeta raised his chin towards her and sucked his teeth in her direction, flashing his brutal canines to the foolish Saiyanoid.

When Kon and the woman reached the royal box, the hulking Sayian pressed down on her shoulders, bidding her to bend to the royals. A guttural snarl erupted from the woman’s throat, and she gnashed her teeth towards the giant to her right. 

_Her demeanor sure is Saiyan,_ Vegeta thought to himself. The tiniest twitch of this mouth gave an indication of his internal musings, Vegeta was drawn to her. She had an acrobatic fighting style—throwing caution to the wind and jumping towards her enemies with the grace of a tapiri. Her body was all muscle, but covered with the thinnest layer of fat, keeping her voluptuous yet deadly. More importantly, she was intelligent, the foes she brought down were felled by her brain over the meager brawn she had. 

“What is your name, Woman?” The King asked dismissively.

Vegeta watched the woman fight to maintain her composure, her jaw clenched with such a force he could hear teeth grinding. Kon seized the back of the woman’s neck to force her into a proper bow, but in one seamless motion she grasped Kon and pushed him away. Visibly shaken that the tiny creature in front of him had caught him off guard, Kon lost his footing. _That idiot can’t even control a simple Woman._ That simple Woman, unperturbed, stood tall, drawing steady breaths as she raised her chin fearlessly and glared at the King of the Saiyans. 

She carried herself with an air of foreboding, shooting everyone in her way looks that Vegeta was certain could kill. She wore lightweight clothing, obviously chosen for ease of movement, and supple leather boots. They were the kind of boots that warriors killed each other over in the slave holding cells, a dangerous luxury for anyone to have, much less a woman. Drawing his attention next was the net of animal hide that criss-crossed her body and snaked over her limbs before ending in gloves. 

“Woman, your **King** asked you a question.” Nappa growled. 

She didn’t flinch. “I am Bulma Briefs of Earth… _Your Majesty_.” The last two words dripped with sarcasm. A smile graced the King’s face; without warning his hand struck across her cheek. Bulma’s body was rocked back, and Vegeta noticed a glow surround her feet before she stopped, still standing. She raised her chin to the King, glaring at him before spitting a glob of blood on the ground. 

“You are dismissed” King Vegeta chuckled. Kon reached to guide her away, but the Woman twitched her fingers and took a swing at the hulking Saiyan. 

“I know where to go for fuck’s sake!” She yelled as she stomped away, leaving a patch of Umath goo that had collected at her feet. 

Vegeta smirked. Something was off about this woman; her beauty, grace and strength were all in direct opposition with her hellfire attitude and demeanor. She was amusing, and Vegeta felt himself being drawn to her. He looked toward Nappa who leaned his hulking form to his Prince. “Have her sent to my chambers after she cleans up.”

****

_____________________________________________

Vegeta glided into his chamber and set his eyes upon the hellion standing on his balcony. She had enough time to cleanse herself, and change garments, although she continued to don the strange straps of cloth over her clothes. He grabbed a glass of wine and made his way to her. When his feet crossed the threshold of his balcony, the Woman turned and leapt towards the prince, a battle cry escaping her throat. _This bitch is attacking me,_ Vegeta thought gleefully, sliding out of her lunge. She landed lightly and rolled to stand. Vegeta drank deeply from the glass and stepped toward the Woman. She began throwing punches, jabbing and uppercutting while Vegeta easily dodged her advances.

They danced in this way for several long moments, the Woman attacking and Vegeta agilely maneuvering out of the way. After an unsuccessful charge towards him, Vegeta smiled and deftly swept her legs out from under her. She fell on her back, hitting her head and groaning. Vegeta took the last drink from the glass he had carefully protected during the scuffle, set the empty vessel on the table and reached his hand towards the Woman to help her up. 

She stared at him, as if deciding her next move. She had a look of genuine hate and distrust in her eyes. “I am not a toy, and anything that touches me without my permission you will lose.”

“What do you think this is Woman?” Vegeta spat incredulously, suddenly losing the euphoria from the recent clash.

“Oh please. You are a royal. You demanded me in your chambers after my victory. I was swept away to cleanse myself, and then was handed some terribly garish dress to change into. Warriors want only one thing after a victory in battle. You will have to kill me before that happens again.”

Bile rose in Vegeta’s throat; this Woman thought he was bringing her to his chambers to take advantage of her? “You know nothing Woman,” Vegeta started. “A Saiyan with honor would never take another without their consent. You saw the Saiyan in the pits? He was there for taking advantage of a tarfa after she said no. Saiyans who have no honor are worthless. Do you think I am worthless? That I have no honor?” Each word the came out of his mouth was more bitter than the last, and at the end of his speech he could feel the tightness in his jaw from the scowl that was gracing his features. 

The Woman looked down. Her breathing sped up. “Did you know that warm-blooded mammals are exotic to those in the Frost Demons army?”

Vegeta froze. He **did** know that. It was suddenly all too apparent what had happened to this creature. Her home world was probably purged by the Frost Demons, and all those who were deemed to be of use were taken prisoner. Vegeta guessed that she most likely ended up in the brothels, and he could see why. She was objectively beautiful. While there, she probably fought off the wrong bastard and ended up for sale as a fighting slave. 

“I hope you killed him.” The words spilled from Vegeta’s mouth before he realized they were even on his mind. 

“I killed the bastard slowly. I cut his tongue from his fucking lizard mouth so he wouldn’t put it on my body anymore. Then I started cutting body parts off. One. By. One.” She almost whispered, but the look in her eye and her tone of voice made it clear she was proud of it and ready to repeat the action.

 _Godsdamn this Woman is amazing._ “What are these bands around your body?” He asked as he reached forward to get a better look at them. The Woman snarled and crouched into a low stance. “Relax Woman. I have already told you that I will not sully my honor for _you_.” He waved his hands up and down the length of her form mockingly.

“It’s my armor.” She spat. Her eyes darting from Vegeta’s face to the floor. She leaned from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand. 

“Pretty shitty armor. That hide doesn’t cover hardly any of your body. And the strips are too easy to grab. Does it even do anything besides put you in danger?”

“I made this armor myself! You would be surprised at how adept it is at keeping me safe.”

She stood there, watching Vegeta; he thought her eyes sparkled with some emotion that was new, softer. “Spar with me.”

“You won’t last prince.”

A smile crossed Vegeta’s face as he led her to his private training room.

****

—————————————————

The Woman landed blow after blow on Vegeta, and following each one he felt a bit more exhausted than before. _This Woman is good. I am actually getting a work out from this._ Her hand reached towards him, but before it landed, Vegeta noticed a band with numbers tracing her wrist. The hit landed, much harder than a person of her power level should have been able to achieve.

Vegeta was confused. The Woman jumped back, and with a smirk, the cuff of her armor turned by itself. She advanced, and it was everything Vegeta could do to be able to dodge the relentless volleys thrown by her. She drew back to slap him in the face, but Vegeta dug into his energy reserves and snatched her arm away. He looked towards her hands and noticed tiny sensors on the fingertips of her gloves. 

Vegeta was examining his new discovery when he felt his feet fall from under him. She had swept his feet from underneath him just as he had done to her earlier. She placed her boot to his chest and pressed into his sternum. “Yield,” the Woman demanded. Vegeta sniggered and knocked her feet off him. She landed clumsily on top of him. Her eyes wide, she reached to her wrist. Vegeta noticed the movement. He needed to stop whatever wizardry the Woman was attempting, so he grappled her shoulders and rolled with her, pinning her beneath him. The hellcat screeched and kicked, trying to free herself, and Vegeta struggled with the ferocity of her fight. His arms shook with the exertion it was taking to keep her still underneath him. “I think it is you who would yield, Woman” Vegeta spoke through gritted teeth. 

She continued to fight him but eventually nodded in resignation. He sat up, body shaking from exhaustion, and looked to her who had risen. She didn’t seem tired. Hell she wasn’t even winded! Vegeta sat in the middle of the floor perplexed by this creature. She was nothing but a ball of contradictions. She had no discernible ki, yet her hits were astoundingly forceful. She was athletic, yet clumsy, soft yet hard, Bloodthirsty, yet Vegeta could tell she was compassionate. 

“How did you take out the Umathi?” 

A mischievous smile graced her lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yes. Yes he would like to know. He refused to answer her directly, so instead he just stared at her. There, in what felt like an eternity of silence, Vegeta stared at the Woman, watching her playful expression. Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips, she was deciding something. 

“What do I get for winning in the Pits?”

Vegeta sighed. “Traditionally, freedom.” He looked to her. “Is that what you want Woman?”

She crossed her legs over one another as she sat on the ground in front of him. “What kind of idiotic question is that?” Her head quirked to the side, like so many feral pack hunters on Vegeta-sei. 

“You would be set free, yes, but you would not be given any money. Vegeta-sei is a peaceful planet with a large and varied slave population. Saiyans believe themselves to be the superior race, so much so that they rarely employ those of inferior races. You would have your freedom, but you would have no money; no one would sell or rent you a domicile; all your food would have to be hunted or foraged, and likely you would be under constant attack by those around you who do not believe you belong here. There is a chance you would end up in the pits again.”

The longer Vegeta spoke, the more disconcerted the Woman’s features became, until her mouth sat in a scowl and the life had drained from her eyes. 

“How did you defeat the Umathi?” Vegeta tried once again. 

The Woman was looking down in front of her. “I had been watching it from the very beginning. The other contestants, you know—they were all familiar, if not humanoid, so I guessed that I could kill them the way you kill anyone else.” Vegeta noticed her flinch when she said “kill.” She took a deep breath before she continued, “I stayed away from the fray until it came down to the last few fighters. Then I had to start fighting back, or I was gonna get killed. Remember when I said I made this myself?” She didn’t pause to see if he was going to answer, her voice was distant. “I was an engineer on my home planet. It took years to perfect, but I embedded some technology in this armor. A few of the things it can do are Siphon, Blast, and Sonic Boom. I haven’t had luck with the armor keeping a Ki charge for more than 10 or 15 minutes, so while we were in the holding cells, I picked a few warriors and siphoned a bit of their Ki. They were some of the first to go down. I noticed the blobby thingie had no real sensory input that I could tell. It wasn’t until I drug the spear across the ground that I realized that all its inputs came from seismic vibrations. So I crawled up on the overhang of that rock and lured it to me with the pebbles. When it got close, I tried a sonic boom on it, but nothing happened. I thought it may be because I was not close enough, so I put the cloak over the top, I was hoping that I could land on top without going in but...” She stopped momentarily. “I found out immediately that the goo was digestive acid. It hurt like hell. Apparently all those movies where the hero gets swallowed and then shoots its way out of the belly of the creature was on to something. It was the only thing I could think to do. I let loose a barrage of Sonic Booms, over and over each blast moving the goo away from me, and sloshing it off of the larger body.”

“You shot it with sound?”

“I shot the fucker to death with sound waves, yes. Sonic damage is really quite deadly, and something that isn’t typically defended against it.”

“That is impressive. I never heard of anything like that.” A pregnant pause settled over the two before Vegeta dared ask, “You have your freedom. What will you do next?”

“Well you said that I would end up a slave, so... I guess I am going to try to escape this hell hole planet.”

“Stay.” Vegeta was shocked by his words. Never had he wanted anyone to stay, much less an alien Woman. But her story was intriguing; she was an intelligent warrior, and this armor she created fascinated him. If this Woman could make this kind of technology as a Frost Demon tarfa, what could she create with actual resources? “Stay and train with me. I will arrange a living space close to the Palace, and you will come spar with me at least four times a week. I will also provide some materials for you to create if you wish.”

The Woman shifted uneasily, clearly fighting an internal struggle. She had been through a bitter sort of hell, and Vegeta knew that she must be untrusting and wary to accept help, no matter how genuine it would seem to be. Her arms wrapped around herself, a silently defensive gesture that mirrored her next words. 

“You pledge to provide for me, and all you want in return is for me to spar with you and create technology for you?” she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “It seems too good to be true. What is the catch? In my experience men want women to pay with… carnal… pleasures? But I am not that woman, I will never pay you with my body. I don’t lay with anyone, unless I truly want to. My body is not for sale. I am not a whore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> [Check out K17's Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/k17hb/)  
> 


	2. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is another of the gorgeous pieces from K17 for this fic! There is a steamy one ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° in the end chapter notes.  
> 
> 
>   
>  [Check out K17's Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/k17hb/)   
> 

  
**Summer 62, Morning**

His body hit the ground hard. Laying on the floor prone, he used his sudden stop to his advantage and leveraged the Woman over his head, throwing her to the floor beside him. She exhaled quite a bit of air, and Vegeta grinned, knowing the impact took the wind out of her. He stood, grunting in pain. The little Woman had broken his nose and three ribs with her _settings_. Too bad her armor did nothing to alleviate impacts. “Get up Woman.” Her hands planted on the ground, and she pushed herself up on her knees, she was straining to stand. She stood and stared him down. “Trying to figure out how to take me down?” Vegeta asked.

“No, I know how.” Bulma replied, pressing her fingers into her palms and spraying them out in front of her. The air shifted around Vegeta, and wave after wave of energy flowed towards him. His head felt as if it was being stuffed in a too small hole. His entire being throbbed under the pressure. Vegeta pressed his palms to his ears and forced his eyes open just in time to see Bulma pounce from the floor. She hurdled towards him, her device whirled as she gripped him behind the head. Vegeta pulled at her hands, trying to escape her grip, but his body began to feel weak. His muscles began to feel abused, almost as if he had been under the pressures of multiples of gravity for far too long. He was having trouble taking in air, and he knew if this continued that he would not be able to remain upright. He gritted his teeth, trembling at the effort it took even to form words. 

“Woman, you are not supposed to be using the Siphon during our spar.” 

“You caught me.” She grinned as she let go of the Saiyan. He immediately began to feel better. His breathing regulated, and after a moment his muscles felt strained, but able to work. They had been sparring every day for several weeks. Their spars were short. Vegeta insisted that each session she handicap herself in some way, mostly taking her ability to siphon ki. 

This capacity her toy had was unnerving. It reminded him of the collars that the Frost Demon sympathizers had placed on him during a diplomatic visit several years previous. The only reason Vegeta had made it out of that trap was his ascension, his raw power surged through the device and shorted it out, allowing him to save his compatriots and take down the traitorous denizens of that world. He fingered the scar at his neck and looked to the Woman. The memory frazzled him, “Perhaps we should stop for the day.”

“Oh come on Vegeta! I said I’m sorry, can’t we continue?”

“Actually, you did not say you’re sorry. You acknowledged that I _caught you_ ” Vegeta explained, “I set these limitations for your benefit. Using these tricks makes you dependent on them; when you are without them in a fight, you will be helpless.”

“Fine Jackass,” Bulma said as she slid one leg behind her and pointed her fingers together in her ready pose. Whether or not Vegeta felt it was time to finish, the Woman had other plans, so Vegeta bent his knees, readying himself. 

Although her style was built on defense and speed, the Woman was impatient and would strike first, he just had to wait for her. It didn’t take long. The Woman spun and phased out of his field of vision for a moment before appearing directly to his side. Her attack came towards his torso, but Vegeta side stepped her reach. They moved in a deadly dance across the floor, the sounds of their footfalls only broken by their grunts and inhalation.

Vegeta found an opening. He smirked and brought the back of his hand to her face. It hit hard, and the Woman smiled in earnest “Setting 8 - Toughen,” she said as Vegeta realized his mistake. He could only watch as the Woman gripped his wrist. She held him in place. “Strength.” The dial on her wrist turned of its own accord, and in slow motion Vegeta watched as the Woman’s head smacked him hard across the temple. He splayed across the floor, stunned at the power the Woman had. “Setting 3,” she finished before offering her hand to help him up. Vegeta pushed it away, refusing to allow a Woman, no matter her warrior caliber, to help him. “Have it your way, homeboy,” she said as she strode out of the room. 

The Woman used her brains in a fight the way most warriors used their fists. She was calculating and deadly. Discovering how her brain tackled problems, and created advantages where there were none before, drew him to her and it was his favorite part of his time with the Woman.

**—————————————-  
Summer 73, Day**

He felt fantastic after his morning spar with the Woman. She had matched him in every way, raw power augmented by the genius of her invention, and a talented, strategic mind kept Vegeta on his toes. Now, he sat in yet another boring council meeting. Rhu stood at his chair and droned on about the food supply or some drivel. Vegeta could care less, food issues were a problem that was consistent on Vegeta-sei. The ground was simply too rocky everywhere except the poles to grow crops.

No, Vegeta’s mind was occupied solely on the Woman. He imagined what noises she would make as he pulled that blue hair of hers, wetting his dick while he satisfied more carnal appetites. He shut his eyes and shook his head to dismiss the reverie. 

Shit, he could _not_ be thinking about this, not ever, but especially not NOW, here, in this meeting. He looked around the room; Rhu finished speaking, and now Nappa, the head of the war council, was standing. Vegeta straightened in his chair; perhaps he should listen a bit, one day he would have to make decisions himself, so he should know more about the way of things. At least war was interesting and would provide some entertainment for Vegeta. 

Nappa addressed the King only; no one of more import was in attendance, “Your Grace, there have been Frost Demon sightings at the edge of our territory…” But Vegeta was already lost to the tedium of Nappa droning on about the trespassers. This had been happening for years, and it was nothing Vegeta was worried about. The Saiyans routinely traded materials and warriors with the Frost Demons for perishables to bolster the crops the planet could grow.

_Maybe the Woman could try to figure out a way to make crops grow in our soils; then we wouldn’t have to worry about how to feed our population,_ Vegeta mused, tapping the pad of his finger on the table top. He was brought out of his thoughts by everyone beginning to stand as the King made his way out of the council meeting room. Vegeta rose, his fist resting over his heart in a salute as the King left.

**—————————————-  
Summer 86, Day**

Bulma swaggered into the training center. She had been here every day since her victory in the pits, and Vegeta instinctively noticed her as he pummeled into Raditz torso. When Raditz turned to the side, giving Vegeta a smaller target, he saw only the flash of blue from the corner of his eyes. Raditz’s fist connected with Vegeta’s cheekbone. Vegeta stumbled backward, as he felt the attack press forward. Fist after fist drove its way toward Vegeta, who clambered to dodge. Several connected with Vegeta’s abdomen, chest, nose.

 _The fuck is wrong with me?!_ His face throbbed under the pressure of the attack, and Vegeta spun away. He shook his head in an attempt to gain the upper hand again. Craning his chin up and cracking his neck, Vegeta pounced towards Raditz. His kick landed against Raditz’s neck. Vegeta twisted before throwing a flurry of blows across Raditz’s form. 

Victory was assured, Vegeta could see Raditz sway and begin to stumble. Right as the final blow was lobbed, the smell of evillyally caught Vegeta’s attention. It was enough to give Raditz a moment to recover and begin his assault again. With such a delicious scent invading his mind, Vegeta felt in a haze, unable to motivate his body to push the offensive. 

Raditz spun for a kick, and in a moment of clarity, Vegeta grappled the mans unruly mane and threw him to the far wall. The hulking Saiyan angrily pounced up, and ran towards his Prince. Vegeta smirked, hunching into his battle position, claws ready for blood—when he spied a red tongue lick pale, pink lips and blue hair get swept out of big, bright eyes. 

Vegeta lay on the floor, unable to decide what had happened. Obviously Raditz had punched the hell out of him, but how did the oaf get the drop on him? The low class would definitely pay for whatever trickery he pulled, that was for sure. Vegeta heard the heavy footfall of the man coming towards him and opened his eyes to see a giant hand extended towards him. He pushed it away, refusing such help and sat up. 

“Heh, ok Your Highness. I’ll see you around!” Raditz chuckled and turned to leave.

Vegeta hung his head inbetween his knees. How was he bested just then? It didn’t make any sense! “Hey, you’re smoking hot! I sure would like to get a taste...” Raditz began. Vegeta angrily looked toward that asshat—sure that he was gonna… 

The Woman had Raditz’s hand twisted backwards; he was on his knees in front of her, and she pushed down gritting her teeth. Fuck—it was beautiful. 

“Hey baby, if you wanted me on my knees all you had to do was ask.” 

The Woman crushed her foot into the mans balls so hard Vegeta felt it. She let go, and Raditz fell to the ground cradling what was left of his manhood. 

“I thought I was the weakling,” he heard her sweet voice call over the huffs of Raditz’s belabored breathing. Vegeta had no words—she was right, he let something get in the way of almost killing that little shit this morning. It was of course one of his most treasured past times. Raditz had sparred with him since they were able to walk, and never had the man gotten that close to beating Vegeta. “Come on. I need to warm up, and it looks like you need to clear your head.” Vegeta looked towards her. She had extended her hand to him. He guessed he would allow her to help him up. 

They began with light calisthenics; Vegeta was happy for the ability to burn off all his frustrations about the last spar, his doubts and distractions being slowly sweated out of his body as he worked it. They then moved into their personal katas. Vegeta’s form and motions were low to the ground, heavy and aggressive, while Bulma kept her movements light, quick and balanced. Vegeta let his mind clear as he focused on the controlled motions. He was content, grounding himself in the familiarity of the practice. 

Sooner than he would have liked, the Woman and Vegeta had finished with Katas and began to fight. Vegeta felt sluggish from the earlier spar; perhaps he should have not pushed himself so hard? Surely, it was his fatigue, but the Woman was beginning to get the upper hand. Vegeta lunged to grapple, but she spun away. She grasped his wrist and spun on a dime. His left leg swept out from under him. It swung into the air, and he pushed it down to kick at her. She was too fast and knocked at his knee. He toppled to the floor. She toppled down on top of him, pinning him to the floor... well, attempting to pin him beneath her meager weight. 

She smiled, and Vegeta watched a drop of sweat move down her jaw line and onto her neck. The sight was mesmerizing, and the haze that took hold of him earlier returned. Vegeta could feel his breath become shallow, and before he knew what he was doing, his hands shot up to her hips. He gripped them tightly, feeling her skin give a bit under his fingertips, before rolling her onto her back underneath him. She writhed there, attempting to free herself, Vegeta staring into her. She was perfection manifest; her features scrunched into a scowl, emitting a growl to shame many female Saiyans. Vegeta dipped his nose to her neck and breathed deep. He was transported to the salt plains of Salicornia, the Linlea wheat fields dotted with the pink evillyally flowers, the wooded glades of Rowthneha and—Fuck what is that scent—musky, heady, tangy, sweet—holy fucking hell, desire. 

With slow anticipation, Vegeta pulled from her neck and peered into her eyes, questioning what he was sensing. Women threw themselves at him all the time. Lecherous sluts looking to garner the affections of the prince. They hoped he would put a cub in their bellies so they could live in luxury. Never a female of this caliber—one with the beauty of the full moon. One who could spar on and off the battlefield. Never had Vegeta been so taken by a member of the fairer sex, and it was intoxicating and distracting.

And before his mind could compute any more information, before Vegeta could think his way out of this, the Woman had lifted her mouth to his, placing a kiss on his lips. It was gentle and chaste. Her eyes searched his for the answer to an unasked question. His head was swimming, he should leave, this shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t… except he did. _Godsdammit!_ His brain was screaming at him to stop, but his body moved down to crush her underneath him. Their mouths pressed together in sloppy, needy kisses. Soft moans broke the silence of the room, bouncing from wall to wall and bringing life with their sound. His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting how delectably sweet she was. Her knees fell apart and Vegeta moved into the hollow left there. He willed himself to stop; his mind was screaming at his body, and he would stop, if his traitorous, mother fucking body would listen. Instead, he ground his hips further into her core. 

He felt arms snake around his shoulders, fingers press into his muscles. Her breath puffed onto his skin as they rubbed their bodies together. Her hips thrusted up to scrape along his length. A louder moan, “Oh, Vegeta,” escaped her mouth and reverberated throughout his mind. _RED ALERT! RED ALERT!_ His brain finally kicked his body into overdrive, and he pulled away from her, sat up, and gasped deeply for air. He refused to look at her. He couldn’t, otherwise he might go back to dry humping a freed, pit slave on the floor of his training room like some low born welp who has never gotten his dick wet. He stood up and stormed out of the room before this Woman could catch a visual of the pink that was burning his face.

**—————————————-  
Summer 87, Morning**

Vegeta woke earlier than normal the next morning. Hell, he hadn’t really slept; his thoughts were plagued by the events of the training room the previous day. He had retreated to his room and taken a scalding hot shower to wash away the scent of the Woman on his skin. He then prowled around his room, ruminating over the events that had taken place, but nothing was alleviating the delirium he felt.

Everywhere he looked was blue. The accent pillows on the bed—navy. Those tiny fucking soaps his servants assured him he needed—powder. The towels he rubbed against his body after the shower—royal, and each shade served as a reminder of the Woman. He pressed his palms into his eyes to shake his vision of her underneath him. He eventually took his irritation to the military training facility where he punched his frustrations out on any poor, unsuspecting challenger until the sun grew dim in the sky. 

He had a delicious meal afterwards; satisfaction in his day finally settled over him. That was, until the servants brought out dessert. It was a creamy colored mound cake that jiggled when it was disturbed—with a single blue flower on top. Vegeta took one look at the soft flesh of the cake before he stormed out of the dining hall. He was once again utterly frustrated and landed in a cold shower. Hours passed in which he spent trying to—once again—evict the Woman from his thoughts, before he spilt his seed unsatisfyingly and finally drifted into dreams filled with blue flowers and the smell of the evillyally.

While mixed up in his thoughts, his feet had brought him to the Woman’s domicile. The sun barely peeked over the horizon and tinted the sky orange. Expelling the air from his lungs, he lifted his hand and banged on the door. Nothing. He waited a moment more before “knocking” again. 

Crashes and curses were heard through the door before it swung open revealing the Woman. She looked like hell—her hair was disheveled, and a line of white where she had been drooling traced from the crease of her mouth. She wore a large shirt with an orange feline on it. “I hate Mondays,” it said. Her armor criss crossed over her night clothes. Did she sleep in it? Goddamn, she was captivating. Everywhere Vegeta looked, he saw something else that interested him. Her second toe was longer than her big toe, and her legs were creamy and soft, but were marred with tiny scars, reminders of her hard life. 

“What do you want asshole?” She spat in his direction. He was brought out of his reverie by her sweet voice. 

_I couldn’t stop thinking about you?_

_I don’t know why, but I want to finish what we started yesterday?_

_You are a witch, and I need to kill you to break the spell you’ve put on me?_

“I came to see how you were settling in,” he lied, surprised that his brain could function at all. She rolled her eyes at him and stepped aside. Vegeta took a step forward; it was way more confident than he felt and moved into her domicile. He heard the door slam shut behind him as his eyes looked over the tiny dwelling. 

There was a cozy living area with a small couch and table filled to the brim with books that was attached to an open kitchen. A peninsula jutted out for eating and preparing food. It was, however, covered with papers and dirty dishes. She stomped around Vegeta, and he felt her bump angrily into him as she passed by him. Noisily he opened one of her doors—just to inspect that she had everything she needed, he definitely wasn’t snooping. Right? 

It was her bedroom—the bed clothes were trailing from her bed towards the door where he was standing. She must like to sleep past dawn, because she had obviously come straight from bed to greet him at the door. Piles of clothing were haphazardly strewn over the floor, and he could see harsh artificial light coming through her bathroom door.. 

He heard the clanging of dishes and water being poured before a nutty smell invaded his senses. He turned to see the Woman shoving a steamy cup of liquid at him. He took it and watched her take a long drag of the solution before exhaling and looking more sharply towards him. _She’s waiting for me to drink this?_ He raised the cup to his mouth and sipped at the concoction. It was good, he guessed—bitter, hot and earthy. 

“So why are you here? I know you don’t want to see my house.” She put the cup to her lips and took another drink. Did he want to see her house? Maybe. Her eyes drilled mercilessly into him. He was sure she was peeling each layer away from his body, examining every pore before stripping to a new depth of his soul. He had never felt so exposed and weak under her scrutiny. 

Why **was** he here? It made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t shake the Woman from his mind. Vegeta shook his head back and forth moving in towards the kitchen. Something about her face when he left the day before, hurt and small, was bothering him. 

“Don’t come into my house and ignore me! I asked you a question! Yesterday you just abandoned me, and now you show up here–”

Her tirade continued. She had put the hot cup down and was screeching like the hell cat she was, her hands pressed into the meaty flesh of her hips. Her angelic face contorted into the most viciously desirable scowl as she threw insults towards him. The words bubbled out of her mouth, falling on Vegeta’s deaf ears; he was too enraptured by the stunning beauty in front of him. 

She had every right to be angry, Vegeta mused; he would have probably been upset if someone had gotten him all hot a bothered and just bolted. He guessed he felt a touch of remorse, but only because he had really wanted to feel her skin on his yesterday morning. Vegeta’s eyes ravished her form as she screamed at him. If she knew he wasn’t hearing her words, she would probably beat the shit out of him,which got him even hotter. Maybe he should test those waters.

His hands were the first thing to grip her, running over the expanse of her torso, the damn cat shirt in between her skin and his hands. His mouth found hers, finally shutting her up. Tongues and teeth crashed together as they devoured each other. 

“I shouldn’t have left yesterday,” Vegeta heard himself proclaim in between hungry kisses. 

“If you leave this morning I will kill you slowly,” she panted towards him. 

“I have no doubt about that,” he grinned against her mouth. Vegeta’s frantic hands roamed over her body, and landed over her threadbare under garments. They were damp—holy gods she was wet for him. She panted into his mouth as his fingers dipped underneath—feeling her skin littered with soft hair. His fingers moved into her slit—her moisture covered his fingers entirely before he experimentally circled the hard nub there. Her hips bucked into his hand and moans escaped her mouth. 

Vegeta felt her hands crawl up to the nape of his neck, twist into his hair and pull him into her more. His entire body was stiff for want of her. His mind focused only on the creature in front of him. His mouth roved from hers to her neck. His body pressed into hers as she was pinned in between him and the counter. Between the moans coming from this Woman and the excitement of how hot and wet she was on his hand Vegeta was afraid he was going to spill in his pants. 

Her hands ripped at his hair—he was sure she had pulled some out, and he steeled himself trying not to cum at the violence in itself. That’s when he felt it, her entire body was trembling, her breaths heavier, and the grunts and gasps were screams under his assault. His forehead pressed to hers, kissing her nose, cheeks, lips while she came down from her euphoria. 

He lifted his fingers to his mouth and tasted her sweetly acidic essence. Her pupils dilated as she watched him taste her, and afterwards, he felt her ripping at his pants. She pulled them down just enough to free his cock. Her legs snaked around his hips she slowly, teasingly, lowered herself on his length. 

Vegeta felt himself coming undone, and he couldn’t have that. Images of Nappa, Raditz, his father—anything repulsive—flooded his mind’s eye to keep from spilling so soon inside. His head was swimming, between involuntary thoughts of animalistically fucking her tight cunt—and pulling back his excitement, Vegeta was unsure of much else besides how right this felt. He felt at home with her legs wrapped around him, her feet rubbing against his tail as he pressed into her over and over again. The feel of her small hands holding his arms, the bite of her nails on his skin, the heat from her mouth as she panted out breaths, the look in her eyes and her passionately incomprehensible mumbling all made him feel settled, as if making this creature come undone in his hands righted all the wrongs in the world. 

He could feel the swell of his release gaining traction, and he gripped her waist tighter as he thrust deeper and faster racing towards his goal. He roared as his peak, hit and searing heat flushed from him. Behind glassy, lidded eyes he saw a soft beautiful creature smiling, before a satisfied kiss was placed on his lips.

**—————————————-  
Summer 92, Day **

The Woman was shaking with the effort of pushing herself up from the floor. They had been sparring without the use of any settings on her armor. The use of her Ki manipulators handicapped the Woman more than either of them cared to admit. If she was ever caught without the use of it, she would surely fall in battle.

“Don't rely on raw power, you will lose every time,” Vegeta said. 

He watched the Woman calm herself before pulling into her tall fight stance. Vegeta didn’t even ready himself; he knew the battle was over. She lobbed a pointed attack in his direction, missing his neck by a hair. Vegeta took the opportunity to bend low and sweep in with his own attack. 

“The best offense is a good defense; keep your vital parts well guarded.” 

The Woman glared at him from the floor before she stood and braced for the next barrage of attacks.

**—————————————-—————————————-  
Summer 95, Morning **

She stood over the stove messing with the food she was preparing. She looked good enough to eat standing there in only her armor. Her supple skin puckered at the edges of the straps, begging for his fingers to caress it. She had tasted so nicely earlier, like battle and Vanilla.

She had bloodied Vegeta during their spar, and he took her right there on the floor of the training facility, while he watched his blood stain her porcelain skin. Those thoughts had plagued him so much that he met her in her domicile and hadn’t let her shut the door before he pounced on her again. 

Which led him to this unfortunate conversation. Caught in his reverie, he almost didn’t hear what she was saying. Except she kept saying a mans name. It was a stupid ridiculous name, _Goku,_ but the Woman kept telling him about his friendship and their lives together. 

“So this Goku was your Earth Mate?” Vegeta asked, shifting in his seat. 

“Goku? Oh gods no! He was married to my friend ChiChi. But he taught me how to fight. We went on adventures together as children. I got in a lot of trouble, so he began to teach me things, to protect myself. I was there when he proposed to his wife. Hell, I had to tell him what marriage was; he thought it was a type of food.” She paused and chewed at her bottom lip, “I think he was Saiyan. He had the tail, and the Great Ape saved us a couple times.”

She placed an overdone piece of meat with some vegetables in front of him. Vegeta began to eat the chunk of game, pondering what she had said. This Goku must have failed his mission, and whatever fate befell him when the planet was purged, he deserved for not succeeding. Vegeta dared not voice this to the Woman; she seemed so fond of the low class failure.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 3, Evening**

The breeze blew across their bare bodies, wafting the cool air of Summer’s end across their flesh. Vegeta instinctively pulled the Woman closer, feeling her skin close to his in the dry grass of the plateau they were perched on. They had come out here to train. Vegeta used his Ki blasts and Bulma her magic tricks, but that had quickly evolved into a wrestling match… of sorts. Now they lay on a bed of their own making, the smell of hay and earth invading their noses. The Woman spouting nonsense about her homeward and the star formations there. After the horizon turned black and became pin-pricked with lights, Vegeta pointed out constellations and explained the Saiyan myth behind them.

Vegeta could feel her eyes on him and turned to see her smiling at his musings; what was funny about Chac, whose penance for defying the gods was eating his own intestines? 

She giggled, “All of your myth are about blood and murder. Even your fertility goddess rips the testicles out of men who she deems are unworthy.”

“Only the strongest seed is deemed appropriate to breed.” _Duh_ He propped himself up on one arm, looking down at her. He could see the stars reflected in her eyes, sparkling with joy. These moments were few and far between—she was angry and cautious most of her waking hours, but in these moments where she was unguarded and happy, the weight of the universe would fall from her features, and Vegeta could see the radiant Woman she was more clearly. She was beautiful, and he wanted to imprint this moment in his brain forever. He leaned down to her neck and took a long drag of her scent—floral, fruity and musky from their sex. He decided at that moment he would do anything to keep the Woman in this state of mind, not having to look over her shoulder, as happy as anyone in the universe was, or he would die trying.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 27, Day **

“See this setting?” She pointed to Number 7. “It allows me to paralyze my foe.”

“Yeah, so?”

They were laying on the floor of the training room. Vegeta was exhausted from their spar, and the activities that came afterwards.

“Did I ever tell you how I left the PTO?”

“No Woman, You were some Tarfa right?”

“I wasn’t some cheap whore. I was Freeza’s head scientist for the Flag Ship, you asshole!” She punched him in the shoulder.

“Bull. Shit. Freeza would have never let his lead scientist get manhandled the way you say you were.”

“He would if it were he and Zarbon doing it.”

Vegeta was speechless; even he knew that the Lizard and his henchmen were renowned for their ruthlessness. He looked at the Woman in front of him and gulped a breath of air before asking the next question. “Ok, how did you leave the PTO?”

“In a hurry.” Her brutal sincerity captivated Vegeta, freezing him to the spot. “Zarbon had me pinned against a row of regen tanks,” Her face contorted into a scowl reminiscent of one who was about to lose their last meal. “I used setting seven, and began to slice body parts off one by one, starting with his tongue.”

The light had left her eyes, once again replaced by the coldness that occupied them when he first met the Woman.

“After that I had to accelerate my plans. I grabbed the one capsule I needed, the one with a few key pieces of Freeza’s tech, and made it on board a pod using Zarbon’s clearance.” Vegeta felt his adam’s apple bob under the weight of his swallow. 

“Hand sensors still work when the hand is cut from the body—biometric security alone is horribly insecure.” Vegeta wasn’t sure, but he thought he spied a hint of a smirk as she walked away from him.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 45, Day**

He had her pressed against the wall of his shower. The water cascaded down their bodies making them slippery as he hammered into her body. Vegeta felt her nails breaking into his skin as he drove in over and over. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but refused to fall from his lips. Screams of passion emitted from somewhere deep within the Woman, and Vegeta lowered his face to her breasts to lick and nip at the skin. “This is my favorite part of you,” he whispered against her breast.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 58, Morning**

He walked into his training facility, expecting solitude. However, she stood in the darkness, perched on one leg, arms splayed to her sides. Her eyes were closed to the world, all calm, strength, and beauty. Vegeta watched her meditation, taking in each inch of her form. She was wholly vulgar, standing half naked in his room. Wearing a black shirt… if you could call the tight, short top she wore a shirt. The whole of her midriff was on display, the skin softly calling to him, before hiding away underneath a pair of baggy pants pulled so low Vegeta was sure he would see the whole of her ass when she turned around. He leaned against a wall as she began to move through her katas. Her limbs moved with precision, slow and tense as if they were moving through molasses. She shifted her weight forward to place a swift kick far into the air. Vegeta closed his eyes, relishing in the comfortable company the Woman’s routine brought him.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 64, Morning **

He felt the air sweep by his head as he bobbed and volleyed past each attack. He could feel an arrogant smirk grace his face as each attack missed its goal. He knew this tactic; hell, it was his own—a fierce push of viciousness designed to overwhelm your foe. He was proud of her, She moulded her graceful, fluid style into this savage new amalgam. He knew each move she would make before she made it, stopping her acrobatic motions before they could connect, pushing her punches away and blocking her kicks.

All Vegeta had to do was wait, and either the Woman would make a mistake, allowing him his opening, or she would tire herself out. He watched her, teeth clenched and screaming obscenities in his direction. Her armor—gods how he hated the damn thing—she never took it off, binding her in criss crosses to the leather. It was there, mocking him in everything they did. He was fighting her, there it was. He was fucking her—it was there. He was watching her eat, it was there. In the shower, in the bed, in the palace, flying through the air. There. it. was. Mocking him with its closeness to her, how she depended on it for her life; it was her teacher, her creation. Shit the way she clung to it, it was probably her lover as well. 

Vegeta smiled as she moved too close to him, giving him the opening he needed to finish this. His hand reached out to his quarry and graspied the mocking strap. The armor caressing where his hands should be and pulled it up, aiming to snap it off her body, wrenching the Woman from the shackles of her own making. He turned to give him the leverage he needed. Their backs were pressed to one another and he knelt pulling the straps down with him.

His vision flooded red, anger tainted his movements pushing him to finish what he started and destroy this barrier between him and his lover. It wasn’t until he heard the gurgle escape the Woman that he turned to see his handiwork. 

Vegeta panicked as he saw that the strap he grabbed had slipped up her body and stuck around her throat. Bulma was turning blue—a stream of drool was sliding down her chin. Vegeta feverishly pulled at the straps, desperately righting their placement. Panicked, he pulled her into his arms, rocking her back and forth as the Woman coughed and breathed huge breaths into her lungs. Worry creased Vegeta’s brow, and after a few moments he examined his error. A huge bruise was already beginning to form over the cream of her neck. Angry, red marks where the tiny veins had burst raced from the impact location. 

“You have been telling me not to rely on my armor so much,” Bulma whispered out, her voice rough and grainy. 

Vegeta did not answer her, he only pulled her closer to him. His chin rested on the top of her head, his eyes shut. He silently prayed to any of the gods who dared to listen to let the Woman forgive him.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 73, Morning **

Vegeta had a serpent coiled in his abdomen, ready to strike. The Financial Advisor, Shallot stood at his seat, addressing the latest economic crises of the world. The young man’s attractive features were pulled into a snarl; his dark hair stood on end as he argued.

Apparently, the prices of the trade products the Colds were providing had risen unexpectedly, and Shallot and Rhu were arguing over the necessity of certain imports versus the price. Nappa had briefly pipped up that they should just dispose of the lizards, only to be shushed by other members of the council who hadn’t seen a good verbal spar in an eternity; these particular arguments were known to get so heated that violence would break out amongst the Saiyans. It was the highlight of any council meeting.

Of course, this whole situation would have never come to pass if _the king_ had made it to the council meeting. He had been missing more and more lately, which left Vegeta to be his proxy at today’s overview. Just thinking about his father and his irresponsibilities was making Vegeta’s blood boil. Where was he? What was more important than running his empire? 

Vegeta’s fingers drummed against the table, perhaps a bit too hard, as the mahogany bent under the pressure of his thrumming. Shallot, in a moment of clarity, finally suggested that they “table the rest of the discussion for a time when tempers were not running as high.”

An unsatisfied groan echoed throughout the varied members of the council. Vegeta’s younger brother, a tiny Saiyan whose power resided in his domineering personality, stood and announced, “As clerk of the Vegeta-sei Royal Council, I hereby motion for dismissal.” Rhu mumbled a “Second.” Tarble eyed the crowd, “All those in favor? Opposition? Abstentions? Motion passes, 12 Ayes, 3 Nays, 1 Abstention.” Tarble nodded towards Vegeta before standing and leaving. 

The members of the Council began to file out, and Vegeta stood to leave. “Prince Vegeta, If I may have a moment of yer time?” Nappa was still seated in his chair across the table, leaning back, the oaf might have put his filthy boots upon the table for how comfortable he appeared to be. 

“What do you want Nappa?” Vegeta sighed. 

“Your Father is leavin’ yah in charge of these meetin’s for a reason ya know.” 

“Bullshit.” Vegeta laughed. “He is shirking his responsibilities, leaving _me_ here to babysit.”

“You needta know howta run the world Vegeta. You needta know howta deal with these babies crying around about their bullshit. You needta grow up and take advantage of yer father still being around, and you being able ta learn from his mistakes.” Nappa stood and placed a hand on Vegeta’s shoulder slowly speaking the next bit. “You needta take this more seriously. Right now yer too busy with that human woman and not yer people.” Nappa’s massive hand patted Vegeta’s shoulder before he shambled out of the room.

The serpent leapt forward, begging for Vegeta to pounce and bury his fangs into Nappa. Instead, Vegeta blinked calmly and heavily breathed out. The idiot obviously didn’t know what he was talking about.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 75, Evening**

His face was buried in her mound, lapping at her juices. He never felt more alive. “This is definitely my favorite part of you” he purred against her.

“Shut up, you asshole…” Bulma squeaked out as she pulled Vegeta’s head flush with her sex.

**—————————————-  
Autumn 82, Day **

They were standing in the Woman’s kitchen. She probably never cooked, because all those areas were covered with what Vegeta considered to be trash. Gears, screws, tools and other bits of mechanical projects lay strewn around the counters and floor. Beakers of an ochre ooze sat unattended on one bar stool, and what appeared to be a sniper rifle laid across the tops of the other two. A tablet beeped under her quick fingers, and a smile graced her lips as she adjusted the fitting of the wire snaking from the tablet to some robot she had been working on. She stood there in Vegeta’s armor, having pulled it over her head after their mid-morning romp, excitedly talking about the numerous possibilities of these bots. He had never seen anything more perfect than this tiny creature doing away at her work, half naked and speaking to him as if he was any old schmuck on the world. Was this what happiness felt like?

**—————————————-  
Autumn 92, Morning**

Vegeta sauntered through the market, allowing the Woman to stop at this stall and that. She was oddly entertained by the mundanity that came with—not even purchasing things, but _looking_ at them. The first time the Woman had insisted he come out to the markets with her, Vegeta was utterly flabbergasted by the inane drivel she had continuously spouted at him while holding beads and pottery up for him to _see_.

They were stopped at a stall selling salt sculptures. The Woman was fawning over a salt chunk carved in the form of the Oozaru. Vegeta was used to her blabbering by now and knew he would not get a moment of peace this morning. Not that he minded really anymore—he was content listening to the lilting music she made. 

A prickling sensation towards the back of Vegeta’s senses alerted him to something odd. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he could almost feel someone watching him? Well, that wasn’t completely unusual considering he was the prince. This, however didn’t feel normal. He turned his eyes and searched the crowds. He examined the milling Saiyans, and looked over the foreigners a bit longer trying to gauge their intentions. 

Nothing immediately jumped out to Vegeta, besides a few Arlians making a fuss over the amount of money a fat pink blob of a being was offering for their meat by-product. Other than that, the market was docile. 

Vegeta’s attention was brought back to the present by the warmth of the Woman leaving his side. With one more look around him, and continuing to note nothing unusual, Vegeta begrudgingly followed. 

“Tell me a story Vegeta.” She asked so much of him, always prying into his life. But what would it hurt to indulge the Woman? He began to speak, letting the unease that had settled over him melt away as he wove his tale. He used the same hushed tones the wet-nurses would when they told the children of the Moon Goddess Kuu and Nemain. 

He leaned into her side, letting his words slide from his lips as he spoke of Nemain who was visited by the moon one night disguised as a fair maiden who stole his heart. Vegeta let his breath tickle the Woman’s ear as he told her of how Nemain raged so much that he slaughtered an entire tribe each day until the full moon, when he was so incensed that he transformed into the Oozaru. 

Vegeta’s hands stroked the Woman’s arms as he described how the Oozaru was a physical manifestation of Nemain’s rage and spent the night bathed in the rays of the full moon’s embrace. He was soothed so much, that he gave the moon five silver rings that could only be seen in the brightness of a super moon. Vegeta watched the Woman smile throughout the one true love story in Saiyan history. 

They meandered to a produce stand as they talked. The Woman bent over the table, searching the melons. Vegeta scanned the produce, everything looked gaunt, squishy and rotten. Bulma raised a melon to her ear and thunked her fingers to it listening to the sound it made. 

“Mama always said the best melons sounded hollow.” A far away smile crossed her face. 

A horrifying scream erupted from the Woman’s throat and the melon splattered on the ground. Vegeta hunched into his fighting stance, ready to take on any foe who dared to attack in his presence. Vegeta carefully examined the crowd for the threat before the Woman howled, “GET IT OFF OF ME VEGETA!” 

Confused, Vegeta straightened and noticed a fat, fuzzy worm climbing up the Woman’s arm. “What’s so scary about that tiny thing?” A laugh erupted from his chest; she was completely crazy. Unafraid of all the real dangers of the life she was in, and overreacting to the tiniest worm. Her face drew into a venomous scowl, and she swiped the fuzzy thing from her arm with such force that it landed right on the bridge of Vegeta’s nose.

WHAT. 

THE. 

FUCK. 

It was hideous, Vegeta could feel each of the monsters 10,000 feet tickling his face. The brown fur, while appearing to be fuzzy and fluffy, was slimy and cold. Panic the likes of which Vegeta had never felt, not in battle, not when he was knocking on death’s door, settled over Vegeta, and a feral scream erupted from his throat. His hands scratched at the creature, pushing it from his face. It toppled to the ground before he incinerated it with a Ki blast. 

His fury was then directed right at the Woman, who was holding her head in her hands, her whole body shaking. All anger left him, worry instead settled in as he reached for her. She lifted her head to him, shaking. Shaking with laughter. That bitch. A joyous tear fell from her eye, and she wiped it clear. “What’s the matter BadMan? Scared of a teeny tiny worm?”

**—————————————-  
Winter 1, Day**

He saw her device twirl around her wrist, and the room began to fill with a smoke so thick, Vegeta not only had a hard time seeing, but he struggled with his breaths as well. Each puff of air he brought in was thick. Knowing he would have no luck visually, Vegeta closed his eyes and strained his ears for any sign of motion. Deafening silence. It was so disorienting until he felt the Woman in front of him, pulling on the waist of his pants.

As was all too often around the Woman, his brain short circuited. His thoughts disappeared behind the sensation her hands left over his skin. His pants slid off of his waist, her fingers trailing along the V of his abdomen. He sucked the heavy air into his mouth. Her hands pushing, pushing, pushing his pants over his thighs, knees, calfs and resting in a pool around his ankles. He could feel his length already hardening under the gentle touches.

Vegeta gasped loudly—the sound startling the silent room as the Woman took him into her mouth. He cautiously opened his eyes, searching for a visual to go with the sensations he was getting; although grey nothingness was all he was met with. Vegeta stood there, in the center of the training room, and lulled his head back to enjoy the pleasure the Woman was giving him. _The mouth… the mouth is definitely my favorite part of her._

**—————————————-  
Winter 5, Day **

His mind was blank. Never before had he been able to say he had NOTHING on his mind. But this creature here, in front of him, assaulting his every sense with her being was so disorienting. Her little mouth pressed against his tongue, delving deep into his own.

She had taken her armor off.

He had never seen her without it—the criss crossing lines of the leather were nowhere to be found on her body, just long swaths of ivory skin with a small patch of soft curly hair disappearing in between her legs. All of her was pressed against him, she was soft and needy. He was losing his mind slowly as her hands groped his bare muscles, and he wanted more. Needed it. Needed her.

**—————————————-—————————————-  
Winter 15, Evening**

Sleep evaded him, so he took to the city streets hoping to walk out his frustrations. His feet brought him down the Woman’s road, and he slowed on approach to her domicile. He pushed his feelings forward, wanting the comforting feeling of her sleeping Ki to ease his mind and body. Instead of a steady, calm Ki signature, the Woman’s was erratic.

Instinct bolted Vegeta towards the Woman’s house, fearing the worst. Perhaps she had been attacked and was being held without the use of her armor. 

_Damn her! I have warned her to prepare like she wouldn’t have that tomfoolery available, but she refuses to listen!_

Vegeta twisted the handle of her door and, to his horror it was open… she **was** in trouble; no sane person would leave their door unlocked on an alien planet. He scanned the small home—noting quickly that nothing was out of place in the living and cooking areas. At least he didn’t think anything was out of place; it was impossible to tell with how slovenly the Woman lived. He moved quickly into her bedroom, the origin of her Ki signature, to be greeted with the Woman in bed, tossing back and forth—alone. Vegeta let out his held breath, momentarily comforted. 

“NO! No—don’t,” she was mumbling; she was sleeping; she turned. “Zarbon—stop...” 

Vegeta’s face blanched under the implication. The horrors that this Woman underwent to continue to be terrorized by these demonic beings was beyond Vegeta’s comprehension. He moved to her side, not wanting to scare her with his touch. 

Carefully, he leaned on the bed and whispered, “Shh…. Woman.” His hand threaded gently in her hair, petting away the nightmares. “Bulma, I am here.” Her breathing was still erratic, but she began to calm. “You are ok. I am here.” His body began to move closer to her. “You murdered Zarbon—slowly.” His tail stroked the Woman’s cheek. “You are away from Freeza, and you are never going back.” 

He lay beside her now, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You are safe here.” He held her, continuously whispering affirmations and stroking her hair, until she calmed. She eventually fell into what Vegeta sensed was a calm sleep before he allowed himself to rest.

**—————————————-—————————————-  
Winter 16, Morning**

His eyes lazily opened as the morning sun filtered into his Woman’s window. The air was turning cold, heralding the true onset of Winter. The crispness of it invaded his nostrils and sent shivers up Vegeta’s spine. He loved training in the bite of the Winter months, and that thought alone excited him.

He had a full day upcoming. He would start with some light training and beating the shit out of Raditz. His father had called for a meeting with him at the noontime meal, and Nappa needed to give him a briefing on how much he sucked at his job. 

Vegeta turned on his side and saw his Woman was still sound asleep. He reached towards her and swiped a bit of hair from her brow. She looked so peaceful. He wrapped his arms around her, breathed in her scent, felt the warmth of her skin, and watched her body move under her breaths. Perhaps he could stay here just a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you once again to Tashana.Ambrosia, Rockykelboa, guardian.eris, Blacksheep115, and ScarletRaven1001 for helping me not suck too much I love y'all!
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> And OMG... K17 out did herself with this smutty sexy fan art here  
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>  [Check out K17's Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/k17hb/)   
> 


	3. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This morning I was completely stunned when my girl Tashana.Ambrosia messaged me and gifted me this bit of non-traditional art/vision board for the piece. I think it is absolutely lovely and I am floored by it cause it FITS SO WELL!!!
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> I wanna thank one more time all the awesome people who worked with me on this piece, RockyKelboa, Tahsana.Ambrosia, Blacksheep115, Scarletraven1001, and guardian.eris. Y'all are amazing and I don't know that I would have finished without the kick in the pants y'all gave me. <3

Winter 35, Day

—————————————-—————————————-

She was weaving back and forth, deftly dodging each blow he delivered. Her hair was flowing around her face like a raging ocean, and she was smirking in Vegeta’s direction. “I’ve discovered your tell,” she purred before ducking mischievously under his jab. Vegeta felt the heat of her shoulder press into his stomach as she tackled him, knocking him down.

“Woman, you’re using your toys again.”

“Make me stop _Your Highness_.” 

At her challenge, Vegeta lost all sense of where he was. Flipping his Woman, he took his perch atop her, roaring in his victory. He looked down upon her and took in her features, they were both foreign, yet familiar. He bent his head to her neck and scented her, taking in her smell before placing a chaste kiss to her mouth. She smiled and invited him closer by wrapping her legs around his waist. 

Victory surged through him; he looked down at this smiling creature. But, as he loomed over her prone from, a great dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Bile raised in the back of his throat. Vegeta swallowed down the unSaiyan-like fear that was setting into his being. Something was wrong, and Vegeta was not quite sure what it was. 

He didn’t have time to ponder such questions as the door opened and Raditz entered. “Prince Vegeta?” The lowborn began; he dropped to one knee. Vegeta grunted a response, not breaking contact with his woman. “His Grace, the king has summoned you to his audience chamber.”

“You are dismissed,” Vegeta growled, as he dipped his head to take in the evillyally scent once more. Raditz stood, bowed his head, and backed out of the room. Vegeta licked at her pulse before he stood and straightened his training gear. “Woman, I will come to you after evening meal.” He looked to her; she had propped up on her elbows. Vegeta tamped down the anxious fluttering of his stomach and left the room. 

He turned left, letting his feet carry him the familiar way down the halls. His mind was a million miles away. These disturbances crept into his consciousness frequently. A great unease was settling over him whenever he was near his woman lately, and it was becoming a distraction from his daily duties. 

Before he realized it, he was standing outside the large doors of the Royal Audience Chamber. Guards stood motionless at either side of the large imposing doors. Steeling himself, Vegeta pushed them open and brazenly walked down the onyx floors before stopping and kneeling in reverence of his father. Head dipped, he addressed him “Your Grace, I was informed you wished to see me?”

“Prince Vegeta, it has come to my attention that you have been spending a great deal of time in your private training chambers with that female you picked up from the fighting pits,” his father’s voice boomed.

“Is that what this is about? You want a turn?” Vegeta countered; a smile crossed his face.

“As if I would sully myself with such an inadequate whore.”

Vegeta pushed his fist further into the floor, teeth clenched. “She is no whore father; she is a formidable warrior-”

“This woman is a gnat to be crushed. No amount of tricks or trinkets would make her a worthy adversary or deserving of the attentions that are you are bestowing upon her. She’s not even a Saiyan! She is at best a distraction.” Vitriol dripped from the King’s words. 

“She is no such thing father-”

“You will address me with the respect your King deserves boy.”

How _dare_ he speak with Vegeta, the strongest of all the Saiyans, with such tone. King or not his prowess and power deserved more respect than to be left kneeling on the floor and chastised like a pup! Regardless of Vegeta’s inner issues, he suppressed his anger and spoke with a calm he did not feel. “Your Grace, the time I have spent with the victor has afforded me opportunities to gain strength and hone other talents as a warrior. I would hardly consider that a _simple_ distraction.”

 

“Vegeta, we are on the verge of war with the Frost Demons; they openly mock our name to our allies, deny our trade requests, and it is only a matter of time before they demand us to join their empire. We will not have the future King thinking only with his dick!” at the end of this tirade, King Vegeta’s voice had risen in pitch and volume, almost to the point of screaming.

Keeping the same composed demeanor he had previously, Vegeta began to speak, “If things are as you say Your Grace, then you know I need to be at peak performance. I am one of the senior most commanders of our militia, and I have gained invaluable insights training with this woman. She thinks different than any Saiyan or any warrior I have ever trained with.”

“Careful child—you are speaking with quite the fondness of this off worlder.” 

“So what if I am? That is none of your concern.” 

When the King spoke again, his tone held no anger; if anything it was almost patronizing, “How could it not be my concern? When my heir and his reputation put the reputation of this planet at stake, it is 100% my concern. It should be your concern, if you truly seek to have my throne one day.”

“Do not threaten me or what’s mine, my liege. We both know the moment I choose to be King, I will be.” Vegeta raised his head in defiance locking eyes with his father. 

“Are you threatening me, boy?”

“You know what this is.”

“Hahaha! Well, I’ll give the woman credit for helping you find your balls if nothing else.” The tenseness of the past few moments fell away from his features when his laugh burst from his mouth. King Vegeta’s hands directed his son to stand and a smile beamed from his face. Vegeta had won this spar, and his father was proud, either that, or he was worried about what would happen if the king pushed Vegeta on this matter. 

The irreverent spirit of the previous moments fell away, and the King spoke in calm earnestness now. “Vegeta, I need you to be vigilant; we are at the precipice of war, and you need a clear head.”

“I hear you Father; I assure you my head is as clear as it has ever been.”

“Good, because you will really need clarity for the Frost Demons’ upcoming visit.”

“What?!” The words flew from his mouth; it had felt as if his father had dropped a Ki bomb on his chest. His breathing threatened to speed, and his brain began to fly rampant with the unmaking horrors of what this news meant. 

“Yes, we received word this morning; Freeza himself is coming to Vegeta-sei within a ten day. There are rumors surrounding his visit. My more naive advisors believe this is a simple diplomatic visit.” This did not surprise him; Vegeta knew how stupid many of the advisors could be when it came to anything out of their areas of expertise. 

A deep breath was exhaled and a deep frown crossed the King’s face. “This is the beginning of the end of our tenuous alliance. The Colds, as you know, have been less and less forthcoming with upholding their trade agreements, and Nappa, Rhu and Tarble all believe this to be a declaration of war.”

“I see, and what do you believe?”

“Only what I see with my own two eyes. You should be ready in either case Vegeta.”

Vegeta nodded, his father’s words sinking in. The time with his Woman was coming to an end with the arrival of her former tormentor. 

“You’re dismissed; use your time wisely, my son.”

**—————————————-—————————————-  
Winter 36, Morning**

He was on the attack, lobbing punches towards her face. She kept dodging left, then right, deftly escaping his volley. His fist finally hit something hard; oh shit his Woman has caught the punch. Before Vegeta could react, her arm swept across and slammed into the side of his throat, causing Vegeta to stumble and fall. Bulma jumped up and landed on him, knocking the air from his lungs.

“You’re holding back! What’s wrong?” Her anger was palpable, but no more than his nerves. The tension between the two filled the room before Vegeta stood and said, “Freeza’s coming.”

**—————————————————  
Winter 39, Evening**

Vegeta’s eyes bore into her soul as she lowered herself onto him torturously slow. His fingers gripped her as she rolled her hips, drawing him closer to his peak. He watched her face, scrunched in what seemed to be great concentration. She was flushed with passion, and her skin glowed with the sheen of their lovemaking. She breathed heavily, and soft pants rolled off her tongue before she began to shake and flutter around him. She steadfastly continued until Vegeta could take no more. His mind was a haze of lust, and he spilled himself deep in her.

They lay still connected. Vegeta ran his hands in a figure eight over her bare back, feeling the marred flesh that she bore as a trophy of her time with the Ice Tyrant. His lips found the supple skin of her neck and he gently tasted the salt of her skin. 

Vegeta groaned with the bite of the cold air when she rose letting him slide out of her warmth. She padded to the washroom, and Vegeta listened to her hum gently as she cleaned herself up. She then slid in between the covers, her head taking residence on his chest. This moment felt like perfection—him and his Woman drifting off towards a dreamworld together. 

That perfect moment was cut short as she pushed herself onto her elbows, looking to Vegeta. Her face was as serious as he had ever seen it, a deep scowl pulled over her fair features. 

“Vegeta, if Freeza takes me, you have to promise…” a pregnant pause filled the room as she chewed at her bottom lip, “Promise you will kill me. I can’t do it Vegeta.” 

He felt his world falling out from underneath him.

“I can’t go back there, with him. I don’t care if I die.” 

The room spun as she spoke.

“I don’t care, but... but y-you have to kill me if he tries to take me. I can’t do it. I… can’t.” 

Vegeta felt dampness on his chest; her sobs were the only thing breaking the silence now. He couldn’t say anything; he only held her tighter. He couldn’t promise to kill the only thing that had made him feel. So he held her and let her sob on his chest until she drifted to sleep.

**—————————————————  
Winter 44, Morning**

Two rows of Saiyan Elite warriors lined the pathway from where the Cold contingent would leave their vessel and then meet the Saiyan Royals and other officials. King Vegeta stood slightly more in front of the rest of the contingent as the leader of the planet; Prince Vegeta stood just slightly to his back and in the proper place of the heir, to his right. Then, as custom dictated, the small council of advisors lined up behind the royals, flanked by the two ambassadors to the Frost Demons. All in all, minus the show of strength provided by the Elites, there was a modest group of ten powerful Saiyans waiting impatiently for the cold-blooded tyrants.

The hatch of the Cold cruiser hissed open, and moments later two Yaun-ti slithered down the ramp. Vegeta recoiled at them. He had always hated the serpentine creatures slithering upright. Their arms protruded from where Vegeta guessed their chest would be if they shared a more Saiyanoid physique. These creatures were carrying large trunks toward the royals. 

Following the Yaun-ti, came three large, hairless, lavender skinned creatures. Patches of violet skin covered their joints, and strapped to their sides were claymores. Vegeta recognized these as warrior Elites of the Frost Demons. 

The tiny champagne colored Freeza followed. His skin was smooth and shiny. Vegeta was most taken with the lizard’s crimson eyes and dark lips, which were quirked into the notion of a grin. He was followed by more warriors and his own contingent of advisors. 

They all strutted, well, perhaps not the Yaun-ti whose bodies undulated under their every slither, towards the Royals. Nappa gave the command, and the Elites raised their hands toward the sky and fired Ki blasts that exploded in extravagant fireworks. 

Kori and Yuki, the pair of caesious ambassadors, stepped forward and bowed low before the contingent. Yaun-ti glided towards the sides, and warriors parted as Freeza moved forward, acknowledging his followers graciously. He looked upon Vegeta and the King before nodding slightly in respect. Vegeta heard the creaking of the hide Saiyans behind him wore as they dipped into a bow, and he returned the gesture of respect with his own nod. 

Kori and Yuki stood. “You stand in the presence of Lord Freeza, conqueror of worlds, master of Gozima, slaughterer of Gag Nul the cruel, the heir to the Ice Throne and rightful ruler of the Frost Demon Empire.”

The royal herald, a gangly man with sunken cheeks, named Beets stepped forward, “This is King Vegeta, he is King of Vegeta-sei.” Vegeta’s eyes rolled so hard they hurt. Freeza’s mouth curled into a true smile. 

“It’s been too long, Vegeta.” Freeza said, forgoing the King’s proper title. He stepped toward the King and hovered off the ground to place his hand on the king’s shoulder. “I sure have missed the spunk you monkeys possess! I brought you a gift.” At that, the Yaun-ti placed the chests to the ground and threw open the lids, revealing bounties of exotic fruits and vegetables. 

“You spoil us, Lord Freeza; such opulent gifts from a gracious ruler.” The King spoke. 

“And how is the little Princeling doing? I see you have taught him some manners Vegeta; I haven’t heard a peep from him!” Freeza’s eyes sparkled as they caught Vegeta’s. 

“Ah, do forgive me Freeza-” Vegeta began.

“ _Lord_ Freeza, boy!” His father scolded.

“I do apologize, father. I noticed the familiarity in which **we** were being addressed and forgot my place.” 

“Ah, don’t worry your head about that young Vegeta!” Freeza laughed and extended his hand towards the prince, who grasped it in a shake. “I do hope we can have a friendly and productive visit.” 

Vegeta suppressed a growl and clinched his jaw to keep from reacting to the claminess that was radiating up his arm where Freeza gripped him. The moment was graciously cut short when Kori and Yuki cleared their throats. “Lord Freeza, if you would follow us, we have made appropriate accommodations for you in the palace.”

**—————————————————  
Winter 44, Afternoon**

Later that day, Vegeta sat to he right of his father at the banquet table. His formal armor constricted his movements; the shoulder pauldrons were stiff and did not allow him to move his arms widely, and the floor length cape kept getting caught on things. He had sat on it when he came to dinner, and searched far too long for a moment where the attentions of the guests were not on the head of the table before pulling it out from under him.

A feast of roast beast, charred fowl, fish both raw and lightly seared, breads, brains, roots, fruits and sweets were splayed across the table. The Cold ambassadors were scurrying about gathering the plant based foods the Frost Demons ate. Vegeta and the other Saiyans were reaching over each other, grabbing their own food and hauling it to their plates before beginning to eat. 

“We need to find a way to import more Usenerry Lord Freeza,” Rhu blabbered on. He had been touting the medicinal properties of the plant, “it is imperative-”

“I hear you had quite an interesting showing in your summer fighting festivities Vegeta,” Freeza hummed before crunching into the stalk of a green vegetable. 

“Yes! It was quite successful!” Nappa boomed over slurping and smacking. “Oh man even tha Saiyan was WEAK! But chew shoulda seen the Woman who won—no power! None at all! And she done jumped inta tha belly of a Umath and blew tha fucking thing up!” Nappa swallowed his food and swiped his paw across his face. 

“A woman! How delightful that a member of the fairer sex could best some of the finest slaving warriors this side of the universe! You must let me meet her some time,” Freeza sang, his eyes gleamed with delight. 

Vegeta glared at the creature as if to say ‘over my dead body’. 

“You know, I myself have lost quite a remarkable woman.” The lizards tongue snaked vulgarly in between his parted lips. “She was spectacular in every way. Gorgeous—for a mammalian, ruthless and bright as a tack. She was heading the science division of my very own flagship.”

“Oh, really?” Vegeta began before the others could start.

“Yes. Now, you wouldn’t happen to know of anyone that fits that description would you my little Princey?” Freeza’s eyes were slits, his voice smooth like butter. 

“Can’t say I recall anyone fitting that bill.” Vegeta trained his eyes on the tyrant. 

“Oh, really?” Freeza’s head cocked to the side. “My intel says differently.”

Intel, what kind of intel did this lizard have? And how was he getting it? Was there a mole? A traitor!? Vegeta’s head spun with the possibilities, and yet he spoke. “Lord Freeza, surely your information is flawed. I have no knowledge-”

“I know Bulma is here. I have been tracking her ever since she escaped me.” Freeza addressed the King now, “My most faithful servant has been following her around this dustball for weeks. It would seem your Prince has taken quite a liking to her.” A cruel smirk crossed his face. “Because I am such a benevolent creature, I expect you to relinquish her sanctuary by morning. Otherwise I will collect her myself, and there will be consequences.”

**—————————————————  
Winter 44, Evening**

Bulma sat there on her bar stool, turning a final screw into her rifle. She was perched upon her roost, fiddling with her trinkets, awaiting a fate that was worse than death. Her hands _should_ shake; she _should_ be nervous, but her face was stoic. Ready. Vegeta swept over to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You don’t have to go.” The words were spilling from his mouth. “I will help you find a way off the planet; we will get you to safety…”

Not having experienced it first hand, but hearing horror stories from the slaves that were extracted from Freeza’s Army, he could not imagine letting her go back those tortures. She would be certainly sent back to a place that wanted her dead for the brutal murder of General Zarbon. Vegeta was certain that she would be killed in the slowest, most torturous way imaginable...Or worse. Freeza was not known for letting his playthings get away unscathed. 

“Warriors have no honor in fleeing a battle.” Her steely eyes latched upon Vegeta, and he could feel them sucking his soul into her. This woman—she was fire reborn, wrath, beauty and danger wrapped in a shell of milky skin. Breakable, her body was completely breakable, but her mind stronger than orichalcum—her demeanor completely Saiyan.

Vegeta crashed his mouth upon hers. It was a fierce kiss, deep and needy; his tongue instantly demanded access to her mouth. His mind, which raced just a few moments ago, was still and calm. He was focused on remembering every minute detail of this moment. 

He was cataloguing each dip of her skin, the downy softness of her hair, the way his tongue felt as it smoothed over her teeth—and which ones were crooked from a life of fighting (her top right canine). 

He engulfed her scent, imprinted it upon his psyche, remembering her musk. It was vanilla, berries, those disgusting smoke sticks, cinnamon, fresh linen, sweat, salt, evillyally flower, and desire. 

His hands ran along her body, pressed into the dip of her side and caressed the small of her back. They dropped around and gripped her ass—he loved this part of her, definitely his favorite thing about her. 

They began to discover each other again, and Vegeta and his woman started to loose pieces of clothing. He ripped his shirt off while their mouths devoured each other. She shimmied out of bottoms while their hands explored large swaths of skin. 

Vegeta’s mouth traveled every part of her—kissed at her jaw, collar, her freckled torso, the scars on her legs, and those calloused but somehow still soft feet before Vegeta worshiped at her femininity. He assaulted her until she could no longer stand his touch, writhing under him and mewling for him. 

He found himself laying on his back and looking into the eyes of an Aasimar, pure divinity on Vegeta-sei. Her body lowered, and he felt her warmth surround him. She leaned forward and held him close, cupping his cheeks in her hands while she kissed the life from him. 

His hands were stroking the bare expanse of her back; his fingers ran the ridges of her spine, palms holding the tender flesh of her hips as she slowly, torturously raised and lowered upon him. 

He was dough molded in her hands. He wasn’t the same person he was that fateful day they met, but entirely new, different, better. Vegeta lost himself inside of her, his pleasure building to insurmountable peaks before boiling over. She stayed attached to him as she snuggled close and fell asleep tangled together.

**————————————————-  
Winter 45, Morning**

The sky was getting lighter as Vegeta held his woman close to him. He had missed a night of rest; his mind was too busy ruminating over the issues of the day. There was no question over whether he was going to give up his Woman today, only the question of the consequences.

Hopefully Vegeta-sei could keep their tenuous alliance with the Frost Demons alive after this was all settled. While unpredictable, the Frost Demons provided nutrient rich foods for the population, and loosing their partnership meant not only a time of recession for the people of Vegeta-sei, it could mean revolution if the food stores ran dry. 

However, the Frost Demons were losing their hold on many planets in their federation, and they relied on the Saiyans as meat for their armies. The continued partnership was necessary for both parties. Vegeta pondered these consequences all night. He had made his choice, and there was no going back. 

These first rays of the new day heralded the time he knew he would have to make his way back to the palace. Today was not the day to linger in bed. He pulled closer to his Woman and placed a chaste kiss to her temple before scenting her one more time. He dressed and departed. 

His company for the walk back to his quarters was more worry, more questions and more anticipation. Would she do something rash and dangerous? What was Freeza’s plan? Would he see her again? Each question spiked his blood pressure and each absent answer dropped his stomach in a pit. 

The palace was empty. Sounds of his footsteps echoed throughout the space even though he took care to move as silently as possible. It was odd for there to be no presence of staff, which worried Vegeta even more. He quickly pushed the questions of why the palace was empty to the back of his mind. The only question he needed to worry about was the one in regards to Bulma and her safety. 

He turned the final corner towards his personal chambers and was met with Raditz. The man looked small, his imposing form was slumped against the door, his messy hair more disheveled than normal and his eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. 

Raditz snapped to attention and immediately knelt as Vegeta made his presence known. Vegeta looked over the man, noticing that he hadn’t been taking care of himself, and had most likely not slept the previous night as well. 

“Get up Raditz,” Vegeta hissed. “What are you doing here?”

Raditz straightened, but kept his eyes lowered in respect before saying, “His Majesty is looking for you. He sent me to retrieve you.” Raditz shifted back and forth before leaning in and adding in a whisper, “He wanted me to _go_ to you last night-” 

Vegeta threw open his chambers doors and shoved the imbecile inside. 

“You know just as well as I do that the walls have ears—how _dare you begin to say such things when you are not in private!”_

_“You’re right Vegeta. The walls have ears, eyes and flapping mouths, especially with our new visitors. Nothing that is done or said in the palace or the surrounding areas are without notice. Those closest to you also have second shadows. I dared not leave your doorstep after my orders last night. I fear the Legendary much more than I fear your father.”_

_It was obvious that Raditz feared? No, respected Vegeta. Hell, Vegeta respected Raditz. And it would be soon that Vegeta would be ready to take his rightful place at the throne. In reality, by all Saiyan rights he should be the king already. He was multitudes stronger than his father, but Vegeta was not ready for the steps he needed to take to become rightful ruler of the planet. Not before _her_ ; now, perhaps he was. _

_Vegeta took a closer look at the man in front of him. Raditz’s complexion was gaunt, his eyes were not only bloodshot but also shifty. New welts swelled up across his arms and legs. This man was not the normal jovial Saiyan Vegeta was used to dealing with. Something was fundamentally different, and Vegeta didn’t know what changed, or what had caused the shift._

_Vegeta cared about his oldest and trusted companion, but not enough to add to his current worries. His Woman had to come first, and once Vegeta was able to take care of her, then he could focus on his friend’s needs. “Ok Raditz, where is my father?”_

_“The king is in his personal chambers.” Vegeta turned, and as he was crossing the threshold, he heard Raditz add, “with Lord Freeza.”_

_Vegeta’s heart thudded in his chest, and his feet pounded the marble floors. The click-clicking of his boots, the thudding of his heart and the racing thoughts were a cacophony that was clouding his ability to even navigate the hallways appropriately. Vegeta had made two wrong turns on his way to his father’s chambers. Each time he turned to go the right way, he would spy another servant with their eyes suspiciously planted on him. Were they following him? Or was paranoia of the situation bearing down on him?_

_He rapped on the door twice before he threw the chamber doors open. He looked over the grand room, noticing the fire in the hearth, the luxurious seating area and the grandiose (ugly) art that adorned the walls._

_Vegeta felt five Ki signatures on the balcony and allowed the heat of the morning sun envelop him as he pushed the heavy curtains wide. He stepped outside to join his father, the lizard emperor, Nappa and two servants on the balcony._

_The important people sat around a large glass table breaking their fast with smoked meats, fruits and breads. Vegeta understood the tense nature of the conversation instantly and moved towards his father. He announced himself with a salute and sat._

_Nappa’s face was priceless. Vegeta was glad of it, the hilarity of the oaf’s features lightened the feeling of dread in his stomach. Nappa was so angry that even his mustache bristled and seemed to spark. His eyes were glued to Vegeta, his mouth was pulling up into a grimace, showing his sharp teeth off in a silent growl._

_None of Nappa’s posturing held a candle to the gnashing snarl or piercing gaze his Woman held though. Nappa, with all his attempts at convincing Vegeta to do what Freeza wanted, had given Vegeta exactly what he needed. A reminder of why he was committing treason. Vegeta would save her, and then he would defeat his father and rule with her by his side. Nappa had foiled all efforts with one look, a mere imitation of Vegeta’s dazzling Woman._

_“Princeling, what a morning this is!” Freeza chirped. “I just _know_ you have good news for me!” The lizard cocked his head to the side as if saying ‘right’ before he took a knife to a large piece of fruit in front of him. _

_Vegeta grunted in response and chewed his mouthful of bloody meat. He had hoped that his noncommittal answer would appease the men sitting at the table, but no. Of course no one would give him the pleasure of finishing his food before they began to prattle on with inane chatter._

_Vegeta swallowed and raised his eyes to the occupants at the table. Nappa still stared at Vegeta with the same dumbstruck look he always wore when Vegeta did something Nappa disproved of; however, Freeza was gently chewing his delicate fruit, and king Vegeta had leaned forward in his chair._

_The two rulers were complete opposites in their composure. While Freeza was calm and put together, King Vegeta was visibly shaking with anger. Freeza politely chewed his food using utensils, while the empty plate and blood drips on the breast of his armor made it obvious that the King had shoved the food into his gullet._

_“Oh Lord Freeza, what sort of news were you hoping for?” Vegeta chimed as he cut himself another piece of meat._

_The peanut gallery’s reaction was immense. Nappa audibly gasped, and Vegeta could feel the glare of his father upon his temple. Nevertheless, Vegeta calmly cut and placed politely reasonable portions of meat into his mouth before he chewed what was deemed the appropriate number of times and swallowed._

_“Of course I am talking about my scientist, monkey.” Freeza genially threw the slur out without taking his eyes off his meal._

_“Hmmm… the Woman? I am not sure where she is. I haven’t seen her in weeks.” The spar was on._

_“Oh really? Then where were you coming from so early this morning?”_

__Fuck_ _

_“You know, I have it on good authority you were coming from a building along the west side of the palace.”_

_Vegeta’s grip on his utensils threatened to falter._

_“It is greatly unbecoming of a _Prince_ to tell falsehoods.” _

_Ok so maybe the spar was off. Freeza had won this before it had even begun. Vegeta needed damage control, and NOW. He sat his utensils down before they betrayed him and took a deep breath. Freeza watched Vegeta intently._

_“I apologize Lord Freeza. I know how important your scientist is to you. I went to the domicile she had once resided in to retrieve her. Alas, she wasn’t there. She had previously expressed interest in leaving the planet. Maybe she has fled?”_

_The slightest smile quirked upon Freeza’s face before he sat back in his seat nodding his head. However, it wasn’t Freeza who spoke next. Instead Vegeta’s father growled, “I would suggest you either find her, now—or find the Saiyan who has allowed her to flee and dispose of them.” The King waved his hands, and Vegeta was dismissed._

__

**————————————————-  
Winter 45, Afternoon**

Vegeta left straight from his breakfast and headed towards his private training room. He knew he needed to keep normalcy, so he began his training with meditation.

His attempts to still his mind were not working; flashes of what transpired over breakfast reeled through his mind—worries of the future, memories of the past. They all swirled through his brain, fogging his ability to meditate. 

Raditz joined Vegeta in the room; he looked much better than earlier, and Vegeta decided it was okay to began their spar. Both of them sucked. Raditz felt the effects of his paranoia induced breakdown; Vegeta feared the worst outcome of the day. They looked like two cubs play fighting. 

“Dude, you are off today,” Raditz bragged reaching down to help Vegeta up after knocking him off his feet. 

“My mind is not in the palace today.” The prince sucker punched his friend after his confession.

“Vegeta, perhaps you should take a good long walk, if you get my drift.” Raditz wiggled his brows at the suggestion. 

“I don’t trust the lizard-”

“Vegeta, he’s in meetings all afternoon. Currently in the King's Library with Nappa and Rhu. If you were to leave now, no one would notice until you were long gone.”

Vegeta mulled it over for long moments. It was true that he needed to go and protect his Woman, but he was unsure of the safety of him going to her—he was not unaware of the extra servants following his movements this day. There was a secret passage near this very training facility, and Vegeta was certain that under the right circumstance, he would be able to slip into it without being noticed. 

The two Saiyans parted ways. Vegeta was secretly grateful to his friend for convincing him to leave palace grounds. He padded towards the secret exit. As he approached the door Vegeta reached out with his mind. He searched for the Ki signatures in the area. 

He found four other than his own, and began to assess who each was. There was Raditz, the stout royal brewer, Hoga, the Stewart of the Castle, Jaga, and an unfamiliar Ki. Vegeta decided the foreign Ki was far enough away for him to be fine and ducked behind the curtains that lined the walls before slipping in the passage. 

He followed the twists and turns of the dark tunnel until he came to a dead end. His hands fumbled along the walls until he felt the latch. The door swung open and the afternoon light flooded the escape route. He took a breath and tentatively stepped out. 

The passage had wound around through the palace and below grounds before leading to what looked to be an abandoned house in the market district on the north side of the Palace. He slowly came out of this house and examined the crowds. 

He recognized no immediate threats, no one in the crowd paid the Prince any attention, as was his preference. He then began to swiftly make his way to his Woman’s domicile on the West side of the Palace. 

He took an indirect path, making unnecessary turns, and doubling back on his own trail. After making three left turns in a residential area with little foot traffic, his senses prickled up. He didn’t immediately see anything out of place, yet things were not quite right. 

He had a tail. Vegeta was sure of it. 

His eyes scanned the few people that were on the path. There was a dainty Saiyan woman and her child sitting on the stoop of their domicile. They noticed their Prince’s scrutiny and ducked within the safety of their own doors. 

Two guards, both Saiyans, patrolled, their boots clanging loudly against the stone of the street. A foreigner, a large pink blob of a creature. And- 

Vegeta pulled his eyes back to the foreigner. He was… familiar. Something in the back of his mind remembered this creature from somewhere; although Vegeta could not place it. 

The creature looked up and noticed Vegeta’s gaze, and bolted. His feet moved quicker than Vegeta believed for the heft this creature had. Vegeta gave chase, following the thing through alleys and zig zagging a path that Vegeta realized was leading back towards the palace. 

The creature zipped into an alley and lost his footing. It was just the advantage Vegeta needed, and he caught the creature by its shirt. Vegeta jerked the alien into him, butting his head against the pink skull. He stumbled forward and landed on the ground.

“Come now, why are you running from me? It is almost as if you know you are outmatched,” Vegeta hissed. 

“You can’t be that strong,” The pink creature coughed out. 

A smile crossed it thick grey lips before it began to throw volley after volley of white hot Ki Vegeta’s way. The blasts hit all around him. Vegeta took a few to the shoulder and hip. Besides the heat from the hits, Vegeta emerged unaffected from the barrage. 

He patted the soot from his body and smirked. “Do you need more proof?”

Fear plastered the creatures face. “I - I didn’t mean it! _He_ made me follow you! He’s evil you know, with a pin prick of his power, he decimates whole planets! If I didn’t follow you and report on your goings on with that tarfa - well… He woulda killed me slowly! But you know, us together, we can take him down-”

A masochistic smile crossed the Princes features, a feeling he hadn’t felt since his ascension roiled through his veins. The second the creature called his Woman a tarfa his fate was sealed. White hot rage bubbled from his abdomen, and Vegeta coiled power in his fingertips as the pathetic worm begged futilely. 

“I don’t think you understand, I have all the help I need dealing with the lizard.” Vegeta purred, “I have _her_. He loosed his power upon the weak creature in front of him. When the smoke cleared, there was blood, the smell of burnt flesh, and a scorch mark on the cobblestone where the underling had once lain. 

Vegeta then made his way to his Woman’s house. He burst through the door and was greeted with a blast from a sentinel robot. “Woman. We need to go.”

“I’m not going Vegeta! I need to be done with this threat for good. I will kill him with my bare hands.”

It was not what Vegeta wanted to hear. He, of course, wanted to hear her tell him how she had changed her mind, and she wanted to leave. But Vegeta knew better. That was not his Woman. She was too prideful, vengeful. She needed to be done with this evil, and even if it meant his death, or the devastation of his planet to help her, Vegeta was going to do whatever it took.

“Ok then let’s get ready.”

**————————————————-**

Vegeta felt him coming before the creature stalked into the domicile. Freeza’s form was tiny, but his presence constricted Vegeta’s lungs and made it difficult to breathe. Freeza’s purple lips pulled away from his teeth with a sickening slowness, the wet sound of his smile rang through the room.

Vegeta moved in between Bulma and Freeza, his body a shield for his Woman. 

“Now, now Monkey Prince. Do swing along. I am collecting my lost toy tonight.”

Fiery rage swelled within Vegeta’s chest and a growl of warning ripped through his sternum.

“Pish posh.” Freeza swatted his hands side to side dismissively. “Now, move.” Freeza’s eyes narrowed to slits as he spoke. 

Vegeta slowly dropped into his fighting stance. Each and every muscle tensed as he bent in a deep squat, his hands were poised in front of him like a tiger ready to strike. Vegeta steeled himself with a grounding breath out and waited patiently. ”Make me.” 

“Oh please Vegeta,” Freeza chided with a giggle, “this is not worth my time.” He rolled his eyes dismissively before they refocused on Vegeta. Freeza’s gaze dared the Saiyan to take the first move. 

Vegeta’s heart thudded in his chest. He was primed for a fight.

 _thump…thump…thump_

His body itched for the release a grand battle would provide, but the pounding of his heart broke into the silence of his mind. This was it, the moment that he attacked and victoriously took his Woman from the grips of the Frost Demon. 

_thump…thump…thump_

A bead of sweat slid from his brow. Waiting on the lizard to pounce was making Vegeta anxious. 

_thump..thump..thump_

His breathing steadily sped up. 

_thumpthumpthump_

Just as Vegeta felt he could take no more of the standoff, Bulma appeared at Freeza’s side, striking him. Before the lizard could react, she had disappeared, only to rematerialize behind him. She continued phasing in and out of the area around Freeza, landing punches with surgical precision. 

Vegeta was stunned. She was at Freeza’s left. Right. Rear. Right again. Her attacks were brutal. Amazing. It was glorious, brutal. That is, until Vegeta noticed a pattern to her motions. His heart dropped into his stomach as he realized her potentially fatal mistake. 

The lizard had too, and he smiled as he clamped his tail around Bulma when she appeared to his left. Vegeta helplessly watched as the lizard drew her in close to his body. 

“Ah, there is my warm pet.” His tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked her from clavicle to ear. Bulma howled angrily and struggled against Freeza’s grip. 

Each movement the lizard tyrant made, the quirk of his lip as he spoke, the narrowing of his eyes, the shift of his stance, disgusted and frightened Vegeta. He was witnessing the moment that he lost his Woman, his future. He wasn’t sure what he could do to stop it.

She wrestled under Freeza’s hold, and Vegeta was transported to a different time and place. One where she wasn’t in this position. Where he was more able to protect her from these threats. A different place and time, one to strive towards. 

Although, fear of losing the present with her rooted Vegeta to the spot. His feet planted right into the floor unable to move. Unable to take action against the atrocities of the moment. 

“Ugh! Unfortunately, you taste of Monkey.” Freeza spat before lifting her in the air and slamming her into the ground. She hit with a thud, and Vegeta heard a grunt escape her.

Vegeta’s eyes trained on his Woman. His breathing accelerated, the blood in his veins pumped through his body at breakneck speed. 

She was struggling. She was hurt. His Woman. His Bulma, hurt, by that insect. 

Anger replaced fear and his rage welled in his gut. He saw the scene replay in his mind, Freeza daring to touch what was not his. And the fire of the legendary licked at his guts. The lizard’s hand roaming over Bulma’s body, fire poured into his legs and singed the roots tethering him to the ground. Bulma’s pained gasps as she struggled to fight him off, fire poured throughout his chest and arms licking at the tips of his fingers. The thud of her body as it hit the ground, and finally the fire engulfed his head, tinting his world golden. It was excruciating, as he burst in a golden inferno in entirety. 

His emotions had taken over, and he was attacking on instinct. He slammed his shoulder into his opponents sternum. He truthfully wasn’t even sure what was happening. The splatter of blood and the unmistakable sight of a tooth falling from Freeza’s mouth made him smirk. Then, he spotted her out of the corner of his eye pulling raw power from the lizard tyrant with her armor. 

She pulled away, the raw power visibly augmenting her attacks through her gloves. They began their composition, moving around their target with practiced ease. The slicking of blood was soaring violins. The ragged breathing the wail of brass. The hum of the power from his Woman’s armor the tinkling call of reeds. And their symphony was punctuated by their strikes, thunderous tympani.

They were going to win this. 

Freeza couldn’t dodge their assault. 

Freeza was hurt. 

Bleeding. 

Smiling?

Fuck.

The pain seared through him before he knew what had happened. His face felt hot, and blood slid down his cheek. He stumbled to stand, dirt and brick moved underfoot. He did a quick assessment of his injuries. Luckily, most were superficial; he could feel bruises starting to swell on his back and limbs, but his head throbbed, and his right eye was beginning to swell shut. He swallowed hard as his stomach threatened to empty itself on the ground. 

Vegeta leapt forward. He shoved the pain, discomfort and nausea away as he hurtled towards Freeza. 

He was on the ground again. Pain shot through his body as he heard the distinctive crack of ribs. 

Vegeta pushed himself to stand. His legs wobbled under the effort, and he toppled forward. 

Movement caught his eye. Bulma. Her face was strained with concentration; Freeza was immobile. 

Setting seven. 

Emboldened, Vegeta leapt forward. The world spun around him. The figures in front of him were a blur of movement. 

A sick crunch rang through the air as Vegeta’s fist connected with Freeza’s ribs. His eyes connected with the lizard’s. Vegeta placed his hands to his side, beginning to gather his energy in his palms.

“Galick Gun Ho!”

Vegeta thrust his arms forward his palms and the energy of his attack blasted point blank into the lizards face. 

Time felt as if it was stopped. The heat from Freeza’s burnt flesh radiated towards Vegeta’s open palms. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Bulma’s concentration faltered, and Freeza was freed from his invisible constraints. Pain roared over his face, and he watched as the Frost Demon spun on his heel, slapping his tail across Vegeta’s head. 

He was on the ground again. Everything was black. High pitched whining tore through his brain. He forced his good eye open. Bulma. Her fists mauled Freeza. She was a vision of rage, beauty and power. The hits she planted on Freeza were calculated and deadly. 

Vegeta’s surroundings shifted as he tried to stand. His body didn’t cooperate, and Vegeta fell. The injury to the right side of his face pounded, and his field of vision darkened once more. 

The sound of slicking blood and rumbling of debris brought Vegeta to consciousness again. It was hotter than normal in the room, and the air smelled heavy with smoke. Vegeta opened his eye and saw flames surrounding Her. Blood dripped down her body, purple and thick making a sick sound as it hit the floor. Her jaw was clenched tight together, and her posture was slack. The straps from her armor were broken, leaving only the tattered suit she wore underneath the armor. 

She bent to the ground and with little effort drew up the head of the Frost Demon. A blue glow surrounded her wrist, and she liberated it from his body. She smirked cooly at her feat as flames licked around her body. 

Her visage was of power and terror, and Vegeta was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath. She was everything he never knew he wanted or needed. The future stretched forward and Vegeta could imagine them ruling together. They would be formidable on the throne and it pleased him. 

His Woman had persevered through innumerable terrors and yet here she was fiercely angelic. Bulma had risen, a phoenix reborn through blood and ash. Shucking her chains and freeing herself from the torture of her past. Vegeta watched her for a moment more before the effort of keeping his eye open overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally my absolutely favorite piece K17 made for this fic! I think all the pieces are beautiful and I love the lines and bright comic book-y colors she used, but this one I think is just stunning and fits the attitude of the story so well! It was amazing working with you on this!!!
> 
>   
> [Check out K17's Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/k17hb/)  
> 
> 
> Also, there is a second and third part to this story that continues on in this universe. I am about halfway through the world building/outlining process of part two and hope to have it read for publication before too long!


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